Gray
by shimmer-light
Summary: What happens when Harry decides not to blindly follow Dumbledore's every order? What if he starts thinking for himself? And what if Voldemort discovers this? Eventually Dark Harry! HP/TR Slash! Disregarding books 6-7
1. Prologue

**Summary**: What if Harry begins to doubt Dumbledore and starts to think for himself? He will discover a whole new world besides the Light and Dark sides; Gray.

Oh, and I think I ought to warn you; Harry's personality will be taking quite the turn after the first few chapies, so if you're uncomfortable with slight sadistic tendencies, revenge and the like coming from the goody two-shoes 'Savior', I suggest you give up on the story right now! XD

**Eventual pairing**: HP/TR Other: HP/GR alias Grigory Rubens – not from the original HP books

**Warnings**: A decidedly cooler Harry, Dark(ish) Harry, a very unsnake-like Voldemort, a totally sexy new wizard, slash, violence yak yak yak. I'll include warnings before every added chapter! ;)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter (well duh). That's Miss Rowling, obviously. I do own the plot of this story and characters not found in the Harry Potter books. Besides, if I could, I'd banish Ginny and Cho from the original works in a heartbeat. I can't though.

* * *

**Gray**

**Prologue**

„Stupid boy! Did you think you could prevent it?" Voldemort asked him with his bottomless crimson gaze flashing at him. Harry was lying on the ground, his insides churning with hopeless rage. How could everything go so wrong? It should have been nothing but a simple tournament, a game…

The second Cedric and Harry reached the cup, he knew something had gone terribly wrong. When they landed right in front of the Riddle grave with the Portkey still clutched tight in their hands, Harry had no doubt left about the graveness of the situation. Somehow the Death Eaters had managed to turn the prize of the tournament into a Portkey, although he did not know how. They must have had someone working for them at Hogwarts; probably Snape, greasy bastard that he was. They would kill him, and this time he had no means of escape, no hope to get away, if he ever had. And Cedric…

Oh God! He was dead… His memories were hazy about the ritual, but he remembered Voldemort emerging from that cauldron and the scene would probably haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. He also recalled the image of Cedric, perhaps too clearly even, as his eyes lost the spark of life in them, as he crumpled to the ground with muscles gone slack in death. He kept replaying the past half an hour over and over, the grief and shock preventing him from moving. He stared up at Voldemort wide eyed, the rage inside him threatening to overwhelm him at any given moment.

"Well, Potter? The boy who lived, eh?" Voldemort's snake-like features twisted into an evil smirk as he taunted Harry in a sing-song voice. Harry could not imagine anything more frightening or disgusting than the face hovering above him. That creature could not be called human, or even a living being for that matter. Nothing alive should look like that. It was something that belonged to nightmares; it should not be real and tangible.

"Did you honestly think you could be my better? Did you believe you could defeat me and become the hero you are worshipped as? Silly boy!" His red eyes held a maniacal gleam as he waved Wormtail over with a swish of his bony hand. "Give him his wand!"

Wormtail inched closer and hesitantly held out Harry's wand for him. He stared at it for a second paralyzed, not comprehending what they expected from him. Gathering his wits, he glanced back up at Wormtail and snatched his wand from him before the sniveling rat had the chance to withdraw.

"_Crucio_!" He shouted, and watched the betrayer of his family wither on the ground, screaming in agony. A satisfied smirk played upon his lips; he may die today, but he made the man suffer. He could not see any way to avoid his fate at that point, but damn it, he was not going down begging for his life. Harry himself was a little shocked by his actions, but it was a distant feeling, and it would not matter soon anyway. He sat up slowly, not once taking his eyes or wand off the shrieking heap of flesh. He found it a little odd that no one has tried to stop him yet, but was glad for their unconcerned behavior. He lifted the curse slowly, savoring every moment of the others pain. He deserved it. He deserved a lot worse than this for what he had done. As the noises Wormtail made were reduced to muffled moaning, he tilted his head an inch to gaze into Voldemort's eye. He discovered some surprise there, but it was quickly concealed and replaced by mocking amusement.

"Tut tut, an Unforgivable Potter? However are you going to explain that to your precious Dumbledore?"

"I was under the impression you were going to kill me?" Harry asked tonelessly.

"That is right, I suppose. Oh well, I still had the chance to see the Golden Boy display something interesting. For once." he shrugged. The Death Eaters cackled around them in response. Even so, Harry did not feel regret about it. He could not make himself feel sorry for that particular man, nor for the curse he used.

"Let us see an end to this tonight! I'll prove the prophecy wrong!" Voldemort laughed with his arms spread wide in a parody of a stage performance.

"What prophecy?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Oh, you mean to say the old man didn't even tell you? Poor-poor little boy. Dumbledore keeping such a thing secret from you. You were used all along, were you not, little Potter?" Harry was confused. What the hell was the damn snake talking about?

"You were used all your life, and you knew nothing about it. I wonder what you would do if I showed you?" Voldemort smirked and Harry felt his head explode with pain. He felt the bastard in his mind, felt him breaking through private barriers and lodge himself inside. Then memories came, foreign to him because none of them were his own. He was flooded with forced images of Snape, kneeling in front of him and calmly recounting the words of Sybill Trelawney that he had overheard in a rundown room of the Hog's Head. The damning words that sentenced his parents to death, the prophecy that made Voldemort hunt him as a consequence. He felt the Dark Lord's anger over it, his thoughts as he made the connections, and eventually he saw the night his parents died.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies …"_

As Voldemort finally left his mind, Harry collapsed again, panting and in pain. How could this be? Dumbledore… Why has he not told him? How could he have kept this a secret from him? The man had left him to his muggle family, only to be starved and tortured during his whole youth. And why? So he would not become spoiled, so he could be managed more easily. Frankly, the reason for it was to make it easier for Dumbledore to control him in the oncoming battle of light and darkness. Then, he expected Harry to obey his every whim and get rid of Voldemort "for the good of the world". And Harry, stupid boy that he was, had admired him, was grateful even. After all, he had sent Hagrid to him, had introduced him to the world of magic and all, had he not? But those were nothing but childish dreams, something he _wanted_ to see, instead of the reality he should have focused on all along. Harry was blinded by the gratitude he felt and the joy his new home had given him. He was nothing but a tool. A tool to be used, a means to an end.

"No!" Harry yelled in denial. It was hard to accept the grandfather-like figure going as far as enticing a small boy of eleven and using him to end a war regardless of the consequences it might have on that boy's life and psyche. And all the while Dumbledore made it seem like the choices and decisions were his own, as if the one who wanted to risk his life fighting the Dark Side was Harry himself. Although he would have probably fought anyway, but Dumbledore's manipulation was scalding iron in the pit of his stomach. The betrayal Harry felt bordered on physical agony. How could he? And what of Hermione and Ron? They were also led around without a clue, were put in danger for only one reason – they were his friends.

Tears threatened to leak from his eyes, but he refused to show such weakness. He forced them back with every ounce of strength he had left and glared at his worst enemy. Harry shook his head; that was not entirely true anymore. Dumbledore and Voldemort were competing for that position neck and neck. This gave him a new determination. He could not die without seeing Dumbledore pay for what he had made Harry go through.

"Sorry, oh Great Lord of the Dark, but I can't let you kill me today. It seems I have things to do still." Voldemort laughed with mirth at Harry's declaration.

"And what, exactly, do you plan to do about it? You want to beg? Or do you honestly think you could fight me?" he asked incredulously. He turned to his Death Eaters who chuckled dutifully as their Lord's gaze landed on them.

"Tiny-weeny Potty finks he coulb just get abayyyyyyy!" He heard a woman cry.

"Hush, Bella." It seemed that was too much, even for the Dark Lord himself. Harry snickered. "You find that funny, Potter?" Voldemort swiveled around suddenly. Harry quickly wiped the smile off his face.

"Not really, no." His mind was furiously working on a solution to get out of there alive. And Cedric… God, he could not just leave him here. He glanced at the limp body and shivered. He could not afford to break down. Later, he would probably cry and smash and break everything near him, but not right then.

"You know the rules, do you not? Duel with me! Let me show everyone how weak you really are!" Voldemort shouted with glee.

Harry went along with it, a plan forming in his mind. He positioned himself so he was facing Cedric and tried not to look into those accusing and unseeing eyes. It was his fault he knew. He shook his head again to clear it. Later.

As they began walking with their backs to each other, Harry carefully maneuvered himself to pass Cedric's body on the way. When he reached it, he took a deep breath, summoning all his courage, knowing it would be his only chance. He threw himself down beside the body, lifting it slightly as a shield. Curses could not harm Cedric anymore after all, as disrespectful as that may be.

"_Accio_ cup!" he shouted, and they disappeared with a scream of pure evil rage reverberating through his skull.

* * *

1 year later

Sirius was dead. How did this happen? How could he not have seen it coming? When Harry got back to Hogwarts a year ago, he decided the smartest curse of action would be to pretend he knew nothing about Dumbledore's lies. He had been able to see through the old man's deceptions, make no mistake, but he had forced himself to smile and nod at him nonetheless. He had pretended to be the obedient boy, the savior, the one to fight for their cause without a word of complaint. But this was too much. Sirius, his only living family was gone, killed by Bellatrix in the heat of battle. And why? Because he had been too damn stupid to discover the trap Voldemort had set up. Someone died because of him yet again.

As he thought about it, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with bloodshot eyes, he became angrier and angrier. It was not entirely his fault, no. Dumbledore should have warned him about the possibilities, should have trained him to better defend himself. At the very least he could have made him a better fighter, or taught him spells to make him stronger. But no, he did no such thing. He expected an inexperienced sixteen year old boy to save the wizarding populace from the greatest evil ever known. He had ignored him all year, and kept doing the same still. Harry's only consolation was the fact that he knew the whole prophecy now, from beginning to end. At least the old man had the decency to finally tell him about it, not that it helped. He was a few years too late. Besides, did he really think Harry could not see through his kind façade? It was now more obvious than ever how much Dumbledore wanted to control him. But he was not that stupid, although it did pay off to make others think so.

What should he do? He had the two most powerful wizards alive as his enemies. Harry knew he needed more power, more experience if he was to have any chance of winning against them. But how could he get it? Not at Hogwarts, surely. Harry felt a pang of regret at the thought of leaving his friends behind, but could not see any other solution. They should not have been mixed up in the whole mess in the first place. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued thinking about possible moves he could make. One thing was positive; he had to leave the Dursley house. He had to hide and not inform neither Ron nor Hermione, or anyone else about his whereabouts. He could not trust anyone. And he would become stronger. He vowed that to himself and finally achieved some piece of mind and was able to close his eyes.

"Tomorrow" he murmured. Everything would start tomorrow.

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Note: The real story begins in the next chapter. It will start out a little slow, but I promise nearly every word has its purpose, so… don't bite?

Reviews will be appreciated! How else will I know what you'd like?

And yay for my first upload! XD


	2. Elemental Mage

I still do not own Harry Potter. Geez, if that could change I'd be a garden chair.

**Warnings**: Grigory appears! Hot, eh? *snickers* ;)

~This is Parseltongue~

"This is normal speech"

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**Chapter 1**

Elemental Mage

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Harry glanced back at number 4. Privet Drive one last time. He had waited for Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and their disgusting swine of a son, Dudley, to go to bed, patiently pretending sleep until the house had gone quiet. He then quickly gathered his belongings, part of which had been locked away by Vernon for the summer. He rechecked if he left out anything important once more, finally deciding to leave his cousin's overly large castoff clothes behind. His first trip would take him to Gringotts anyway, and he could afford to buy himself a few new shirts and jeans.

Satisfied, he shrunk his trunk with a flick of his wand, not concerning himself with the Ministry's laws forbidding usage of his magic at all. He had much bigger problems to worry about than the incompetent horde working in the Ministry, making foolish attempts to restrict his actions.

They had called him a liar, had flooded the wizard world with copies of the Daily Prophet slandering his name and questioning his credibility for months. His life had been a living hell since the Triwizard Tournament, made twice as bad because of Dumbledore. Sure, the old headmaster had believed him when he had told him Voldemort was back, but that could not compensate for the deception Harry had discovered in the graveyard that night, or the fact that the old man had resolutely ignored him all year, as if he felt Harry's change of heart. He shuddered with the memory; he was still able to recall everything vividly about Voldemort's rebirth.

Harry called for the Knight Bus with a wave of his hand and requested transportation to the Leaky Cauldron as soon as possible. He could never get used to the damn thing; every time he tried to relax in his seat, he was promptly thrown one way or another. He got off rubbing his arse reproachfully, glowering at thin air where the bus had still stood a moment ago. This was so not his day.

Before entering the building, he remembered he had to disguise himself. It would not do for Dumbledore or Voldemort finding out he left the only place besides Hogwarts that could be called safe. Grimmauld Place was out of the question – too many people from the Order knew the location. He would be discovered immediately and Harry would not put it below Dumbledore to send him back to the godforsaken hellhole of a home without a second thought. He cursed the old man mentally, but he knew there was not much he could do; the past could not be changed, hasty and unfair decisions would not disappear simply because Harry wished them to.

He pulled out his wand from his pocket, an idea already forming in his mind. Hermione had quite a collection of useful charms, and Harry had memorized some of the ones that he deemed particularly helpful.

First, he straightened his hair that has grown to brush his shoulders due to neglect. Hermione had used the method for the Ball during their fourth year, effectively taming the wild bush on top of her head (although she needed other charms and potions as well). With that done, Harry took off his glasses and pointed his wand at his eyes, improving his sight in less than a heartbeat. The spell did not repair them per se, it only coated his irises with a substance that reminded Harry of contact lenses when he had first performed the charm.

Lastly, he concealed the evident scar on his forehead with a small illusion. Any wizard with a modicum of powers would probably be able to see through it if they tried, but why would they? It was not as if anyone expected Harry Potter to saunter into the open in the midst of the brewing war. Nodding to himself, he disappeared through the door invisible to muggles, not noticing the yellow pair of eyes in the darkness blinking at him with surprise.

* * *

The next few days went by in a rush. Harry bought everything he needed after taking some money from his parent's vault, including new clothes, cloaks, books that appeared to have useful knowledge in them (some of them originating from Knockturn Ally even) and a few other items Harry came across during his strolls in area.

Harry stood beside his bed in the dingy room of the pub, admiring his purchases. Who would have thought all this could be found in plain sight? Some of the stuff was barely even legal, like the _Hand of Merlin_, an artifact that allowed wizards powerful enough to use magic without their wands. Harry was doubtful when he first tried the ornate bracelet on, but had been immediately awed by the ease with which he could use it and the opportunities it represented. After all, even if they took his wand, or broke it in the future, he would still be able to perform curses and defend himself. More than that, doing magic without a wand seemed to amplify his power and was a lot more comfortable than channeling it through a piece of wood.

The shopkeeper he bought it from could hardly believe a mere boy would be able to use such an item, and had watched Harry suspiciously as he cast some practice spells with ease. He then reluctantly told Harry how rare the artifact was; in fact, he only knew about one more of them in existence, but it had disappeared through the decades, never to be found. Harry was pleased with that; it meant no one would expect him to fight after his wand was taken from him. It gave him an advantage over any enemy he might encounter.

Harry recalled Ollivander telling him his wand was the twin of Voldemort's and grinned with the satisfaction of knowing he no longer needed to worry about that. He read a book on the subject in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts Library; the wands, if turned against each other, would be unable to function properly, making them useless in a fight. It chilled him to think about what would have happened if he had been really forced to duel the Dark Lord that night.

Now, he would have a chance to battle Voldemort without the fear of something unexpected occurring. His only complaint was about how girly the thing looked. Chains extended from the delicate silver bracelet, ending in slender rings that had to be put on all five fingers. It was decorated with small emeralds nearly the color of his eyes and other gems he could not put names to. The effect was positively gothic. Harry shrugged; nothing could be perfect. Besides, the price was surprisingly low, considering what one could do with it.

He fastened it on his hand and threw himself into the ragged couch beside the bed, opening a copy of _Deemed Dark – The nature of true magic._ He was determined to learn all there was to know about the Dark side and even considered using some of the curses he found. It appeared most of them were only labeled Dark because of the blood they required to be effective and were otherwise nondescript offensive magic; similar to what the Ministry trained their Aurors in. Powerful for sure, but not evil. The more he read, the more evident it became how superstitious and foolish Dumbledore was in his crusade against everything not Light. The old man was unable to differentiate between the shades of gray and resolutely thought about the world in black and white with nothing in-between. Harry was appalled by how ignorant the leader of Light really was, despite the enormous knowledge he held.

~Harrrrry Potter, what on eartttth are you doing heeeere?~

Harry whipped around at the unexpected interruption. He narrowed his gaze at the small white snake he found perching on the windowsill.

~How do you know me? Did Voldemort send you?~ he asked in Parseltongue, panic making his heart beat with double its original pace. If he was found now, all his plans could be flushed down the drain. Not to mention he would probably be dead before the next day rose. The snake laughed.

~Do you ttthink all of ussss ssserve him? You shhhhould know better tttthan to tttthink ussss all on hissss sssside.~

~So why are you here? How did you know who I was?~

~I ssssaw you arrive. Why have you left your housssse?~ Harry blinked. He could not trust the snake. Even if it claimed it meant no harm, it was too dangerous to let anyone go who knew his identity and whereabouts. And serpents were just a tad bit too closely associated with Voldemort for comfort. Harry raised his hand to perform the charm that would wipe the animal's memories of him, but the snake hissed.

~Foolishhhh boy!~ and it transformed with a burst of energy. Harry wiped his eyes to clear the dust from them, and when he opened them, he was staring at a wide chest clad in a black cloak right before his nose. He gulped, a little dumbstruck.

"Animagus?" Harry asked tentatively. The man chuckled and Harry's gaze traveled upwards to meet the two most incredibly beautiful eyes he has ever seen. An odd thought, considering the figure in his room was neither a female nor the slightest bit womanly. But his eyes were mesmerizing without a doubt. The irises were pure shining golden brown with tiny flecks of red. The pupil was slit like a cat's and was a shade of bluish black. Those were not something any human had a right to claim. His dark hair hung over one shoulder in a loose braid, softening the sharp features of his handsome face. If all this was not intimidating enough, he towered over Harry with a complexion of a fighter - all sleek muscles and flat plains.

"What… What are you?" Harry finally managed to force out. The man grinned.

"Gigory Rubens, at your service. I am a wizard too, although quite different from the ones you had a chance to meet so far, save two, I would think."

"Different? How so, exactly? You seem…" Harry searched for the right word "…old, perhaps?" Yep, that was it. The man before him had the gaze of something ancient and timeless.

"Very good, Harry Potter. I am old indeed. The wizards today would call me an Elemental Mage, supposing they were educated enough to recognize what that means and entails."

"Elemental Mage? What is that? And who have I met?" Harry never heard of such a thing and Hermione had never mentioned anything about it during their studies of magical races either.

"Dumbledore, for one. And of course the Dark Lord. An Elemental Mage gains the infinite power of one of the four elements of nature, power so vast, you could hardly imagine. They also receive a life span similar to that of an element; in other words, they are immortal." Harry frowned.

"Dumbledore isn't immortal. He ages like everyone. Fine, maybe a little slower, but he still ages."

"Boy, have you not learnt anything? You see what he wants you to see. His true appearance is probably quite similar to mine. If nothing else, the eyes would give him away. Slit eyes the color of one's element is the same for every such Mage."

"What is your element then? And Dumbledore's and Voldermort's?" Grigory looked at Harry incredulously.

"Have you not witnessed their duel? Voldemort possesses fire, thus the red in his irises. Dumbledore uses water. Although he hides his pupils, the color is original; blue. I am an Earth Mage." Harry sat back down. If the wizard wanted him dead, he would have had plenty of opportunities to attack already. Especially if he had been watching Harry ever since his arrival. He shuddered and suppressed a groan. How come he had not noticed? If it had been anyone else, he would already be dead, or worse, would be sitting back at the Dursleys playing the role of an obedient little house elf.

"So what do you want? If you don't work for the Order or Voldemort what business do you have with me?" Grigory wore a thoughtful expression. After a few seconds his features smoothed out and he nodded to himself.

"Harry Potter, I will train you. You have the potential to become truly powerful, presuming you have the willpower necessary to get there. I will help you fulfill your birthright, if you wish." Harry gaped at him. Was he serious? He nodded numbly, hardly daring to believe it. Grigory winked at him.

"We start tomorrow. Pack everything you need by noon and I will come for you."

"Yeah. All right." Harry nodded again, a smile slowly tugging at his lips. This was good, very good.

* * *

Grigory watched the boy fondly. Harry was the first pupil he had ever taken thus far, despite the long years he had lived through. True, he did it as a favor, not of his own volition, but he still felt pride in his young protégé. He had talent, he had the will and possessed the grace of a cat after he had transgressed from the awkward pubescent period of his life.

It has only been four short years since they first met, but Grigory grew attached to the boy; enough so that he no longer wished to give him up, which was bad. Very bad. He owed a debt to Tom, and could not deny him his request, although his purpose in aiding his mortal enemy in becoming stronger eluded Grigory completely.

Harry could now stand up against the Dark Lord with ease; he may have even surpassed him in some areas. He smiled as he watched Harry gently lifting off the ground. He was now able to command the wind with much better precision and was not shot out toward the sky like a rocket. His first try at the exercise had been definitely the funniest thing he saw in decades. And the boy's expression… Hilarious! Grigory snickered at the memory, but turned grim quickly. He had no choice; Harry had to go.

* * *

"Why? My training is not even finished yet!" Grigory wore a longsuffering expression as Harry whined.

"Harry, if you wait any longer, you won't have the chance to choose your own side in the war. It will be over one way or another."

"But…" Yeash, even Harry thought he sounded like petulant child.

"No buts" Grigory told him with a stern expression. "You must go back to Britain. You know that. And it's not as if we will never see each other again." He added, softening his tone.

"I know, Grigory. It's just… I still have so much to learn! I will be forever grateful for your guidance, but it is not yet enough! I feel I could do much more than this. I feel so much power in me, it just has not yet surfaced!" The older man smiled at that.

"That is true. But Harry, you have eternity to learn, you don't have to rush."

"Provided I don't get killed by Voldemort or Dumbledore first. It's not like I am completely immortal." Harry retorted with a grimace.

"The same goes for every Elemental Mage. You can harm them as well, you know."

"Grigory-"

"And your friends? You think I haven't noticed how much you've missed them? You must go back, boy." Grigory stepped closer and skimmed his finger along Harry's jaw. Harry shivered. He had the sudden urge to hug his mentor, but controlled himself with some difficulty. They never allowed themselves much physical contact. It was like an unspoken agreement not to intrude into the others private life. Harry knew Grigory was lonely and so was he, but they never overstepped the invisible boundaries.

The man's hand still resting on his cheek was something of a shock. Harry decided it must have been due to their oncoming parting. When Grigory leaned closer, Harry's heart almost stopped. His face was not even an inch away from his own, and he could feel his mentor's warm breath tickling his nose.

"Take care, kiddo." Soft lips brushed Harry's mouth, which was hanging slightly agape. He blushed furiously, turning his head away. He did not notice the longing those golden eyes held and by the time he turned back the unusual emotion was concealed behind a calm exterior.

"Er… I guess I really do have to leave then." Grigory nodded. "My stuff?"

"I have sent everything ahead to the Leaky Cauldron. Hedvig too."

"Okay then, I guess." Harry turned slightly, but before he could think better of it, he swiveled back around and threw his arms around Grigory. The man appeared quite stricken, as he stood frozen in place, and Harry quickly let go and apparated with a loud crack.

Grigory smiled. "Thank you, Cher."

* * *

Review, please?

Oh yeah, I guess I need a beta. Anyone who feels up to it? I'm pretty new here, so I have no idea how the system works. So please be patient with me! *teary eyes*


	3. Changed

Nope, Harry Potter has still not submitted to my ownership. Rowling takes all. Shuks

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**Warnings**: Perhaps some fanservice? Not good enough? Wait for the next chapies! XD The juicy parts are coming eventually! ;)

Oh, and I previously forgot to add the occasional 'foul language' to my warnings. So now you know.

~This is Parseltongue~

"This is normal speech"

_**This is silent speech, or mind talk**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter 2**

Changed

* * *

Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, the Golden Boy Of Light, Elemental Mage and Animage was scared out of his wits. How could he face his friends after going four years without so much as a memo? How would they respond to his presence? Especially with his changed appearance…

Harry groaned. Would they even recognize him? His hair was now much longer, although he did not let it grow as long as Grigory's. He never wore it loose; the thick black strands were piled up in a high bun, where they had no chance of getting in the way and obscuring his vision. Easier that way than having to cut it all the time. Being a Wind Mage had its drawbacks too.

He was still as short as ever, but was no longer the skinny, underfed boy Hogwarts once knew. He did not become bulky by any definition of the word, but he acquired lean muscles and some width of shoulders. Not much, but Harry was happy with what he got. He no longer dressed in tattered rags better suited for house elves either. The time for that had passed as soon as he left the Dursleys. For some reason, he still did not have even a hint of stubble, but Harry hoped that would change with time and was not some unforeseen side effect of becoming an Elemental Mage.

And he did not even mention his eyes yet. That was the most unusual part of his new look; they remained the old emerald green, however his pupils became pure white and were slit like Grigory had told him they would become. Yes, he could hide them, but Harry did not want to lie to his friends. They, at least, deserved an honest explanation for his actions. He did not dare hope for their understanding or forgiveness, but they had the right to know the truth. He briefly wondered if they still fought on Dumbledore's side, but dismissed the thought with a sad shake of his head. Of course they did.

Years ago, when he had disappeared, Grigory made sure he had the freshest updates on the news of Wizarding Britain. The Daily Prophet had outdone itself; they had devised elaborate conspiracy theories about how the Chosen One got kidnapped by Death Eaters, how he fled because of his heavy responsibilities, or how he was killed by Voldemort, his body destroyed without a trace remaining. They came up with all sorts of explanations ranging from semi-correct to appallingly unbelievable. Since when had he become so mentally unstable he had to be admitted to St. Mungo's and kept under locks? At least the idea was original.

Harry did not know which story Ron and Hermione came to believe. Obviously not the last option. At least he hoped so.

Harry grabbed the metal knocker with a sweaty palm, hesitating another moment before slamming it against the door. The house belonged to Hermione's parents before they had died; now she lived there with Ron after they had gotten married. Grigory made sure Harry would receive the information by leaving a note at the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Harry's arrival. He needed a few additional days after getting back to work up his courage and finally convince himself to visit them.

"Ron, get the door!" He heard a shout from inside.

"Why me again? I'm busy too, you know! It's not as if the paperwork gets done by Wrackspurts! There is a reason why Luna never manages to fini -" Ron's words were cut off abruptly as the door slammed open. The redhead stared into Harry's face with jaws gone slack, swallowing convulsively after a few heartbeats.

"Hi." Harry said timidly, and got a fist in his face as an answer. Hi straightened up shakily, repairing his broken nose with a swish of his hand. "I guess I deserved that."

"Ron? What's going on?" Hermione's head popped up behind her husband's shoulder and she gave a startled shriek when she caught sight of him. "Harry!"

"Nice to see you, Hermione." he greeted her with a small smile. He was happy they recognized him at once. "Look, I'm sorry I just appeared like that, I know you didn't want to see me, I expected as much-"

"Shut up! You damn idiot!" Harry was pulled inside by Ron and was promptly locked in a hug that nearly suffocated the daylight out of him. He heard the door slam shut behind him and Hermione's tear-streaked face pushed into view. She was heaving huge breaths, gulping air so fast, Harry thought she was hyperventilating, but since Harry was probably as shocked at their reactions as they were to see him, he did not have the presence of mind to try and calm her. This was the last thing he had expected to happen.

"Uh, Ron? Could you let go now? Ron?"

"You bastard!" Harry was horrified to discover tears in his friend's eyes. "Where the fuck have you been? What the hell happened to you?"

"I… I'm sorry." he whispered dejectedly. What should he tell them? No, that was not the right question. How should he tell them? They deserved nothing less than the whole story. Harry sighed and prepared himself for the inevitable. He was going to recount everything that happened to him, from beginning to end.

* * *

"So you're a Wind Mage now? And you're going to fight Dumbledore? Merlin's balls, mate, what have you gotten yourself into?" Ron asked him with wide eyes after he finished. As it turned out, the pair was not nearly as loyal as Harry had imagined. No, that was incorrect; they were loyal to the last bone, except not to Dumbledore, but to him. His feelings kept bubbling forth in waves of happiness; this was all he had ever wished for. The gratitude he felt for their unwavering support could not be contained in mere words.

"I never thought it would be easy. But I do have a good chance now. That is why I disappeared; if I left it up to Dumbledore, I would have been killed in the war in no time. He had no intentions to train me; he thought it would be fine to sit on his bums and wait for the prophecy to take effect. And even if I died in the end, he could just go and take care of Voldemort himself." Ron and Hermione grimaced sympathetically.

When Harry had launched into his tale, they had still looked doubtful, but as he progressed with the happenings and had told them all of his reasons, they seemed to come around. Both of them understood why he left and why he defied their old headmaster.

"I did wonder about Dumbledore too, but I never really thought about things quite this way before. After we graduated from Hogwarts I began to see his faults as well, but I could not imagine him going this far. I suppose you were much closer to him than we were though." Hermione sighed.

"Yeah, but mate, why didn't you tell us? We would have helped!"

"Sorry, Ron, but I could not risk you. There was no way you could have came with me, and it would have been too risky to leave you under the Order's nose with knowledge about my whereabouts." Harry told his crestfallen friend gently. "But I missed you guys. I missed you so much." Harry added quietly. Hermione patted his shoulder with a sad smile.

"We understand, Harry, it's just that… It would have been nice to know you were okay."

"I'm sorry."

They were silent for a few minutes, before Harry felt the need to talk again. He was ashamed and happy beyond words at the same time.

"So what were you up to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? How did you end up as a research team with Luna and Neville in tow?" Harry grinned. Everything would be back to normal now.

* * *

"I sent the boy back."

A languid smile appeared on the Dark Lord's lips. He had been waiting for this. His plans were running along smoothly, he only had to be patient for a little while now. And then the boy would be his.

"Good. I take it his training went as planned?"

"Better, actually. He has so much talent."

"Which element did he gain command of?"

"The wind, although he showed some affinity to fire too, in the beginning."

"What? Two elements?" Voldemort asked with a start. Was it possible for a mere child to surpass him?

"I know, I found it strange too. But I only trained him with wind. I do not know what would happen if someone gained two elements. It may even destroy him." Voldemort relaxed a little at Grigory's words. It would be a problem if the boy became stronger than him.

"Very well. Consider your debt paid." Now his plans would speed up at last. He was looking forward to the cat-and-mouse game.

"Tom-" Grigory began.

"Don't you ever call me that again!"

"Fine fine. So what are your plans with Harry?"

"_Harry_?" Has Grigory grown to like the boy? This could be interesting… "Potter will take care of Dumbledore and the Order for me. He will destroy them from the inside. The idiot probably forgot we are connected and that I would be able to hear his thoughts on the matter clearly when I so wished." He shrugged.

"After that, he will be useless." Grigory paled at his words visibly. Voldemort smirked. "What did you think? I have no need for potential threats to my regime to run around loose. He has a purpose now, which is the only reason he's still alive."

Grigory nodded at Voldemort slowly. He could not let this happen. But what could he do? He did not know, but he had to act fast.

* * *

Harry lay down on his bed with a smile on his face. He could not remember being in such high spirits for years. It had already been three o'clock in the morning by the time he had gotten back to the Leaky Cauldron from Hermione's and Ron's house.

They had talked about the adventures they experienced during the years of their separation endlessly; Harry telling them about his training, about Grigory, about how hard it was to finally transform into his Animage form, Ron and Hermione speaking about their last years in Hogwarts, about the Order, about how they were not involved in the war since he had gone missing and about how they finally formed a research team with Neville and Luna. They were working on inventing new defensive spells and were especially busy with developing a charm that allowed total invisibility not only visually, but hid the user from all other senses as well, like smell and hearing. Harry had been impressed with their progress and by how renown they had become in the field.

They had only ended their talk after Ron began snoring loudly enough to wake the whole neighborhood, and Harry and Hermione also had to fight to keep their eyes open. They had parted with Harry promising her to come see them again tomorrow.

Harry slowly succumbed to sleep, happy and content. The dream that he saw however, drove him right out of his blissful state.

~_**Harry Potter. I received word that you came back.**_~ Cold sweat broke out on Harry's sleeping body. It could not be! Voldemort has not appeared in his mind for years! Harry had thought their connection broke as soon as he accepted the wind into himself. And even before that, the Dark Lord had not bothered him since Sirius's death. Voldemort laughed indulgently.

~_**My silly little kitten, why would the bond break? You have a piece of my soul, you can't just shut me out.**_~

~_**Get out! Leave me alone!**_~ Harry snarled mentally.

~_**I can't do that now, can I? You are my important little kitten after all.**_~

~_**What do you want?**_~ he was panicking, which was bad. He had to approach the situation rationally. He was not the once scared teenage boy he had been the last time he encountered the man, and he knew from experience that he could not afford to let his temper and fear get the best of him. Voldemort was far too dangerous for that. Besides, he was powerful now. He had the strength to fight this time.

~_**Silly kit. How are your precious friends? Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, correct**_**?**~

~_**Don't you dare go near them!**_ he really had to stop these outbursts. Voldemort chuckled.

~_**Don't worry, I have no business with them. Unless, of course, you decide to do something foolish. We wouldn't want that though, would we?**_~ Cold dread stole the air from Harry's lungs.

~_**What have you done to them?**_~

~_**Nothing, I assure you. Not yet, anyway**_**.**~ Voldemort soothed in a mocking tone. ~_**But back to the topic; I came to invite you for a little chat to my home. I trust I can expect you to show yourself tomorrow?**_ Harry gulped. What if he said no?

~_**You wouldn't want anything to happen to those two friends of yours, would you?**_~ Harry supposed that answered the question.

~_**Fine. Where should I go?**_~

~_**I will meet you at the Hog's Head at midnight. An appropriate place for our reunion, isn't it?**_~ Harry heard the dark smile in Voldemort's words. He could not fault him on it; meeting at the Hog's Head would be ironic indeed.

~_**Geez, why at midnight? You are already scary as shit, without having to add further horror elements, don't you think?**_~ Voldemort paused, then burst out laughing.

~_**You have changed Harry Potter. I will see you tomorrow.**_~

* * *

Voldemort studied the youth sitting at the bar undetected. Harry Potter was nothing like he remembered. The skinny, awkward teenager has grown into a lithe and graceful man. Contained power vibrated around him, giving him an air of danger. His hair no longer resembled a bird's nest, but was neatly combed back into a loose bun. As he tilted his head sideways to check the entrance, Voldemort caught a glance of his features. His face was delicate, yet not feminine, with eyes huge enough to dominate his entire face. The Dark Lord narrowed his gaze, squinting through the illusion the boy cast on himself.

His breath caught. His eyes! They were a beautiful vibrant green, a little eerie even, quite similar to the ones he had in Voldemort's memories. But the pupils were another matter entirely. He had never heard of an Elemental mage whose pupils changed so drastically besides becoming slit after the acceptance of power. Even if they did not remain black, they usually kept their darker color. But not the Potter boy; his pupils were nearly white! Voldemort did not know what it meant, but he would find out.

The Dark Lord sneered. He was acting much too unlike his usual self. What was it about the damn boy? He was just another foolish Griffindor, a self-sacrificing fool, who still let his emotions get in his way, running headfirst into danger because of one well timed sentence. Voldemort did not even touch the Mudblood or her treacherous husband, but he came running at the first mention of their names as if he had tortured them.

Voldemort shook his head; yes, Potter has changed, but he was still as foolish as ever where it counted. And he would use that foolishness. But that did not mean he would deny himself of enjoying the treat before him. He smirked to himself and stepped out of the shadow that hid him, starting ahead with soft and confident steps.

"Mr. Potter. A pleasure to meet you."

* * *

Thank you for your reviews! When I read them, I started a totem dance around my laptop! XD I'm really happy you guys like the story so far.

From here on the slash-theme will intensify, so you can look forward to that! ;)

Also, I will try to update about once a week, but I give no guarantees, ok? I will do my best! *bows deeply*

And thanks again for the reviews! It is so nice to receive feedback on my work! I feel all warm and fuzzy! Luv ya all!


	4. Offer

Hey, thanks for the reviews! It motivates me to write like nothing else! :D And for those of you who were concerned about Grigory; he will **not** disappear from the story! Although what his role will be, I'm not telling! :P You will find out soon enough.

In case you were wondering: Harry Potter is still not mine. *sniffles*

**Warnings**: foul language, violence, suggestive m/m situations

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Offer

* * *

Harry whirled around sharply, his heart in his throat, when he heard his name whispered into his ear. The hot breath tickling his neck sent shivers of liquid terror down his spine. He did not notice the hooded figure getting so close to him and that irked him to no end. He had been so focused on the entrance of the pub, he neglected paying attention to his surroundings properly. Carelessness like this could get him killed, and Harry berated himself harshly because of it. In fact, by all rights he should have already been a crumpled pile of goo by then, considering who sneaked up on him.

The man behind him radiated the unmistakable aura of an Elemental Mage. Although Harry wondered why Voldemort bothered to come for him in person, but he finally concluded it must have been because he did not want anyone (including his own little circle of slaves… er… _allies_) to know the ´Golden Boy´ was back and was having a friendly chat with _The_ Dark Lord.

"Tom, I presume?" he asked. The man hissed at him.

"The only reason you are not yet writhing in pain for that is because I do not wish to be discovered. Watch your tongue next time, boy!" Harry made a rude noise.

"You thought you were inconspicuous? In that getup? You are like a newbie undercover agent trying to disguise himself with sunglasses and all. Although I suppose a scaly-bold and noseless head would garner even more attention, eh?" he snickered. He did not expect Voldemort to chuckle at his remark.

"It does not matter much in this area. People who come here tend to be… odd." he finished after a moment of thought. Harry snorted at that and lifted the firewhisky from the bar, only to nearly choke on it when Voldemort pulled his hood off.

"Besides, I would say you're the one who's drawing more eyes here. You have no idea what you look like from a stranger's point of view, do you? An average wizard would fear you because of the power you radiate, and the rest… Well let us say you are gifted in terms of genes." Harry finally managed to swallow the liquid and proceeded into a coughing fit at the words. Voldemort had just made a move on him! Yuck! No wait! Voldemort had a nose! And lips! Even hair! Ears too, although maybe a little pointier than what could be considered normal. The situation was even weirder than Ron vomiting slugs.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Harry croaked, clearing his throat from the remains of the strong drink. He tried to get his erratic breaths back under control. For the time being, he quickly shoved Voldemort's more than a little disturbing notion of complimenting him to the darkest and most secluded part of his mind and addressed the other matter at hand; Mr. Forky Tongue actually looked _human_. Even when he channeled an absurd amount of magic into his sensory sight, he could not see a trace of any kind of illusion besides the one covering the red in his eyes. The man really did look like that. Shaking himself out of his lockdown, he quirked an eyebrow, going for the 'unfazed but interested' look.

"Impressive improvement. New image?" Voldemort looked amused.

"Why the surprise? I thought I made it clear; not everything is as it may seem. Use your head, Kit." Did that mean this was his real face? Or was the bald and scaled one the original? He looked nothing like the teenager Harry saw in the Riddle diary a few years back. He tapped a finger on his chin irritably.

"Don't lecture me! And do _not_ call me that, it's gross." It was a bizarre situation in by itself; Voldemort sitting next to him, calmly giving some 'heartfelt' advise, instead of shooting off killing curses like a stuck machine gun. Harry was getting more confused by the minute. He had anticipated an all-out duel as soon as they lay eyes on each other, or at the very least a positively frostier atmosphere. But here they were, sitting in a pub, chatting like long time buddies. How weird was that? He nearly giggled into his recently refilled glass.

"So what do you want?" Harry had made it a point to check up on Ron and Hermione that day. He had come for the meeting directly from their place and despite their continuous nagging to tell them what had him so riled up, he told them nothing. Worrying them would have been a very bad idea, if the past was anything to go by. Sure, they needed to get reacquainted, catch up on the four-year-gap in their relationship, but he had no doubts they would have done something stupid if they had known; like following him or organizing a rescue mission. He could not afford the distraction of looking out for them if the shit hit the pan.

"Nothing you wouldn't have done on your own anyway." Voldemort smiled. Before Harry could do as much as twitch, the man had his wand jabbing into his ribs. Harry lifted his hand to defend himself, but he was not fast enough; the curse hit him directly below his heart. He had a moment to congratulate himself on his uselessness before the world around him went dark and he slumped forward into Voldemort's arms like a rag doll.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes groggily, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. It was more like a dome actually, with magical creatures of all kinds painted all over it. There were species there he did not even recognize, despite all the years he had already spent as a wizard, like the purple feline-looking animal nearly the size of a baby whale, if comparing it to the dragon beside it gave it any justice. As he continued watching the images in a mesmerized trance, he heard a soft clinking sound as his arm got lifted from beside him. He shifted his head slightly to define the source of interruption before comprehension slowly dawned.

His magic gave a stir at the touch of the Dark Lord. Harry felt a violent shiver run through him and snatched his hand back with a start. What the hell was that? He stared at Voldemort puzzled, but the man just quirked a brow quizzically. Had he not felt it? It was as if his very core resonated with anticipation of power, shooting pleasurable waves through his body. If it was not the man bending over him, then what had caused it? Wait, bending over-

"Shit!" Harry jumped up with a fluid movement, getting as far from the other man as possible. Although he greatly suspected a couch between them would not be enough to stop anyone from getting a hold of him, let alone one of the most powerful wizards alive, it did give him a modicum of comfort to know he did his best, given the unfortunate circumstances. "You bastard!"

A curse was already at the tip of his index finger, ready to be released, when it suddenly died down. The spell was snuffed out like a candle hit by water, dissolving as if it had never been there. Harry stared at his hand, uncomprehending. After a few shocked moments his head shot up and he glared at his enemy. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Not to worry, it's nothing permanent. I sealed your magic for your stay here; I can't have you attacking me in my own home after all." Voldemort told him with a careless shrug. Harry had the burning desire to go after him anyway, if only to strangle the daylight out of him by sheer physical force. He could not even change into his animal form like that. He lifted his hand to his throat, feeling the uncomfortable metal there.

"Shit! You put a _collar_ on me? What the fuck?" Shame colored his cheeks at the thought.

"I will take it off in due time. It is the seal that prevents your magic from leaving your body. And no, you cannot take it off on your own; it is keyed to my blood." the man added when he saw his efforts to claw the offending thing off.

Adding fuel to the fire, he was pissed off at himself for revealing _Hand of Merlin_ so fast. He intended to use his wand in the beginning, figuring he could reserve the wandless magic as a trump card for later, more dire times. But he had let his guard down and got himself knocked out not even ten minutes into their meeting with Voldemort, giving ample chance for the other to search him thoroughly in his unconscious state. He mentally patted his shoulders in acknowledgement. '_Nice go, Harry. Good to know the last four years of hard work paid off'._ The only redeeming feature in the mess was that the artifact could not be taken off him without cutting off his hand. Not that _that _could not backfire.

"I would suggest you sit down and hear out what I have to say. Unless you would like me to make you…?" Harry glared at him with an intensity befitting an angry rhino, but he cautiously inched closer and sat on the couch, as far from Voldemort as possible. The man had the nerve to smile at him before he spoke again.

"So how do you like my home? I noticed your fascination with the design above?" Harry gaped at him incredulously.

"Tell me you have _not_ brought me here to discuss your tastes in art? Get to the point!" Voldemort sent him a withering glance.

"You are a guest in my home and I suggest you act as such. It's only right to give the host some basic courtesy. Addressing me with respect would be a good point to start." Harry scoffed. 'G_uest'_, he says?

"You threatened my friends to lure me into that bar, then kidnapped me. Not to mention your numerous attempts to kill me in the past." Harry frowned. "Although I don't get why you stopped that in favor of having a chat with me. I don't suppose you lost your mind compl-"

"_Crucio_." It was said so calmly, so casually, Harry did not even know what flew at him until it was too late to duck. Then came pain. He tumbled off to the floor, agony lacing through every fiber of his body. He refused to give the snake the satisfaction of hearing him scream, and he lifted his head to stare at him with contempt through the haze of pain he was in. He was on his knees, his fingers digging into the soft cushion of the seat. He saw Voldemort's mouth twitch before he lifted the curse after nearly a minute. Harry slumped with the relief of the spell leaving his body, panting and cursing heavily.

"Impressive. Not even a sound." Was the bastard _happy_ about that? Harry's rage built inside of him steadily, filling him to the breaking point. He felt his magic strain against the seal, stirring under his skin restlessly. "Even Mr. Lonbottom broke after half a minute. A new record." Harry frowned at him.

"Oh yes, did you not know? A year after you left, the Order raided my previous mansion. Mr. Longbottom was there too, as well as that Mudblood friend of yours and the Weasleys. I took my time to play with them a little before we had to vacate." he said with a careless air around him. Harry felt his magic leaking through the tight confines of the seal, the ever increasing red-hot anger fogging his senses. The lights above them started to flicker and the house shook as in an earthquake underneath.

"Don't you dare insult them!" he said, a glowing breeze stirring the air around him. He slowly got to his feat, still feeling a little shaky, but he ignored the tremors that ran through him. "How dare you speak of them like this to me? I'll kill you! I will, if it's the last thing I do!" his voice thundered in the huge and relatively empty space. Voldemort appeared quite stricken but he schooled his expression remarkably fast.

"Calm down Mr. Potter. I will not have you disrespecting me in my own home, nor anywhere else, for that matter. You _will_ comply with this simple request, especially if you expect me to regard you and yours as anything but the bugs they are."

"Bastard!" Harry repeated helplessly. Voldemort just kept staring at him expectantly. Even though Harry realized that it was hardly the time for bravado, it took him quite some time to get his wayward feelings under control. With the adrenalin rush fading steadily, the effects of the dark curse became more pronounced. It was hard to stand without swaying, so Harry sat back down with closely measured movements, while his body kept absorbing the escaped magic.

"That's better. Don't you want to know why I brought you here?" Harry remained sullen. Voldemort sighed theatrically.

"Such a brat. The reason you're here is because we can help each other. Was it not your desire to defeat Dumbledore? I can help you with that."

"What?" he burst out. "Why should I want to fight Dumbledore, of all people? You are knocking on the wrong door if you think I'll help you win your stupid war!" Voldemort's eyebrows lifted into a mocking expression.

"Tsk, kit, have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts whenever I wish? I knew why you ran away from the very start. I haven't bothered you since then because I saw the possibilities the situation presented. Do not deny your thoughts on the matter, lest I believe it and kill you right now." Harry gulped down the myriads of insults on the tip of his tongue, deciding silence would serve him best. If Voldemort did not intend to finish him off yet, he could use that to his advantage. He had no illusions about the man permanently stopping the Potter-crusade, but it was an unforeseen fortune to get a break on that end.

"So what, you want to work with me now? You want us to be _allies_?" The word left a bad taste in his mouth. Voldemort chuckled.

"Good to know you are not as stupid as you seem. That is exactly what I said, yes." Harry growled at him, and it came out more animalistic than human. The Dark Lord studied him with interest.

"So you became an Animage? I didn't hear about _that_ yet. What is your other form? For heaven's sake child, I could just go through your memories if I wanted to!" he added with exasperation. "Can you not try to have a civil conversation with me?" Harry almost burst out laughing; a sentence containing 'Voldemort' and 'civil' in a positive context? Ridiculous. And where did he get information on him from? That was something that bothered Harry greatly, but there was not much he could do about it just then. Besides, he doubted the man would simply come out straight and tell him if he asked.

"Yeah. Maybe I'll show you after you took this fucking collar off me." Voldemort only grinned. "So what do you plan on doing? And what do I get in exchange for helping you?"

"Making demands? You're not really in a position where it's warranted, don't you think?" Voldemort stepped closer and sat down beside Harry. He was not as revolting as in his snaky form, but Harry still had the definite urge to jump up and get as far from him as he could. Preferably some continents away. "But very well. What would you want?"

"I suppose I can't ask you to commit seppuku?" Voldemort's lips twitched. "Okay, how about teaching me how to shut you out? I don't want you listening to my thoughts without my knowledge. And Occlumency would not work anyway, I know that already. So tell me a way to do it." Harry had studied Occlumency with fervor during the past four years, but as he had learned more and more on the subject, it had become evident that was not the answer to protecting his mind from the Dark Lord. It would work fine on anyone else using Legilimency, but the connection between them was something else entirely. Building a shell around his mind would not do the trick; Harry discovered their minds were linked together as if they were one. Although they were divided with walls strong enough to keep Harry from being able to break into his nemesis's thoughts, as it turned out it did not work both ways. Voldemort looked thoughtful and he nodded slowly after a few heartbeats.

"I can do that. But I warn you; it will not be easy."

"I don't care." Harry said resolutely. When Voldemort'a hand landed on his thigh though, he jerked away with a startled yelp. "…the hell?"

"What is it?" the Lord looked amused and placed his hand back to where it had been. He slowly rubbed the fabric with his thumb in a circular motion, staring into Harry's eyes intently. "You're no longer an innocent. You look good enough to satisfy my tastes. There should be no problem." Harry gulped down a huge calming breath after sputtering for what seemed like minutes. The powersurges rolling through him, originating from the point contact did not help matters either. He jumped up from the couch, backing away like a rabbit caught in the headlights. The son of a…

"You…! You're… you're GAY?" did he really just ask _that_ of all things?

"What a crude word. If you must know, I have no such reservations. It does not make much of a difference to me whether it's a male or female, provided the subject is to my tastes." Harry kept inching further, getting a little nauseous at the thought of Voldemort in bed with anybody, let alone him. The night of his rebirth kept replaying itself before his eyes with vengeance, and though the man's appearance was now more than acceptable, outstanding even, but Harry could not think of him as anything else but the hideous snake-like thing he came to know him as. Besides, this was Voldemort, the one who killed his parents, the one who made his life miserable and the one who has hunted after him with the sole purpose of murdering him. How was he supposed to reconcile those with the gaze that was directed at him?

"I have one more condition," he choked out. "You will not touch me without my permission, _ever_." Voldemort leaned back with a slow smile and half lidded eyes.

"Of course." He agreed. Harry watched him, a little dumbstruck. Well, that was easy. Before he had time to ponder on it though, a soft knock sounded from across the room.

"Come in." Voldemort called out, suddenly cool. The door clicked open softly.

"My Lord," Harry heard a familiar voice say. "was your mission successful? The Potter boy-"

Harry gaped at the newcomer. "You…!"

"Oh, hello Potter. Good to see you again."

* * *

With this chapter, I'm finally getting to the part in which direction I intend to take the story. Partly, at least. Hope you will like it!

Oh, and I wanted to ask which characters you would like to see pop up in this fic. Any favorites? Obviously I can't comply with every wish, and I have my own ideas too, but if there is someone you'd especially and collectively like, do tell! :D


	5. Blocked

Hey everyone, I received some comments questioning the attitude and maturity of the older Harry. I realize I may have overdone some personality traits to make the end result more believable and distinct, but it did have its purpose, as you will later see. *winks* As I mentioned in the beginning, from now on he will be gaining some more character slowly but surely and I hope you won't be disappointed!

Miss C Riddle: Oh yeah, he definitely will! ;) That is, eventually. *evil grin*

* * *

Harry Potter is mine... not.

**Warnings**: the same as always

* * *

**Chapter 4  
**

Blocked

* * *

"…Cho? What are you doing here?" Cho Chang smiled at Harry beatifically, flashing a row of even, porcelain-white teeth. But there was a cold glint in her eyes that he did not remember seeing from before, when he had still attended Hogwarts.

"Oh, we just came with the Professor to discuss the oncoming term." She bowed to Voldemort deeply before moving into the room "My Lord." The man nodded his head a mere inch, acknowledging the greeting. Harry's mouth had fallen open somewhere along the last minute, and he closed it quickly when he noticed. He managed to school his expression into a somewhat less stupid one with great effort, paying special attention to perform the more important living functions fairly regularly.

"Miss Chang, as you can see, I am busy right now. We will have this discussion tomorrow. I trust that is acceptable?" he asked in a hard and cutting tone. Cho flinched a bit, but aside from the small tremor in her hands, nothing gave away the fear Harry knew she was feeling.

"Of course My Lord." she bowed again and turned to exit the chamber. "See you soon, Potter."

Harry muttered a curse under his breath after they were left alone with Voldemort.

"Cho Chang?" he turned to the man incredulously. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"She is quite useful. She became a teacher at Beauxbaton after she graduated, so we finally have connections there as well." the Dark Lord wore a satisfied smirk. Harry blinked.

"No, what I meant is; what the hell is she doing _here_, reporting to you like a friggin Death Eater?"

"Watch your language, kit. And she is obviously reporting like a Death Eater because she _is_ one." Voldemort said slowly, as if explaining why one and one equaled two to someone with an IQ below fifty. Harry frowned.

"You cast the Imperius on her?"

"No." the man was getting irritated by then. "She is here of her own volition."

"But you murdered her boyfriend!" Harry exclaimed, still too shocked to think clearly.

"So? And technically, that was not me anyway." Harry did not know what else to say. He stared at those red eyes for a minute, as if searching for something. When he did not seem to find it, he sighed, turning his head.

"Take this thing off me. We already have an agreement." He grumbled, fingering the metal around his neck. Voldemort cocked his head like a bird eyeing a particularly juicy insect.

"I think not. I have no guarantee you will not attempt to kill me in my sleep, given the chance. I will remove it during our lesson tomorrow and we will see how you conduct yourself." Harry gritted his teeth and nodded jerkily; there was not much else he could do at that point, but obey. Besides, did the snake think he would let him put it back on once it was off? He was not about to let his guard down again. "Discussion on our further plans can also wait. Now…" Voldemort clapped his hands and a house elf appeared with a loud _crack_.

"Canny, escort Mr. Potter to his room."

"Yes Master, Canny will do that. Mr. Potter you following Canny please."

Harry nodded and stiffly fell in step behind the house elf's swiftly departing back. They walked down a dimly lit hallway, at the end of which they stopped before a narrow stairway leading upwards. Canny gestured for Harry to go ahead, and he hesitantly climbed the spiraling staircase. At the top he found himself standing before a closed door and he cautiously cracked it open, not knowing what to expect.

His suspicions turned out to be for naught; the door opened to reveal a simple bedchamber with a large four-poster bed, a desk with a chair in front of it, a huge closet and another door, presumably leading to a bathroom. Harry stepped inside and was not especially surprised to hear the door click shut behind him with an echoing finality. Just to be sure, he tried opening it, but it did not even budge. Harry cursed and threw himself on top of the huge bed, exhaustion weighting his limbs. He knew some rest was necessary, but that did not make it any easier for him to relax. He finally fell into a fitful doze after staring at the wall for what seemed like hours.

* * *

The next morning Harry was startled awake by Canny popping into his room with a loud _crack_ that would have made Dobby proud. She carried a tray, which she deposited upon the desk in the corner.

"Is Harry Potter needing help with anything?"

"No, thank you Canny." The little elf nodded and disappeared.

Harry stretched on the bed, threw off the blanket and sat up sleepily. He shuffled to the tray, the smell of bacon and eggs teasing his nose invitingly. He gobbled down the food in large chunks, not particularly caring about the flavor. A quick check in the closet turned up some fresh clothes, so he hurriedly took a shower and dressed. By the time his door finally opened, he was sitting on the chair impatiently waiting for Voldemort's sorry ass to get ready.

"Sir, the Master be waiting for you in the study. Canny will taking you there." Harry stood up and followed her downstairs, passing the same hallway they moved through yesterday night. The house elf stopped to knock on a door directly facing the chamber Harry has awoken in when he had arrived in the mansion.

"Come in." the commanding voice filtered through the wood. Harry stepped inside with a guarded expression. Voldemort sat behind a huge antique-looking mahogany desk, on top of which parchments were piled in complete disarray. The Dark Lord was bending over, entirely engrossed in his work for all appearances. Without looking up, he sent the elf on her way and instructed Harry to sit down in front of him.

"Take it off." Harry growled when Voldemort continued to ignore him. The man glanced up at him with a faint smirk.

"Very well. Lean closer." Harry stood up and walked to Voldemort's side of the desk, not wanting to humiliate himself further by climbing atop a table. The Lord lifted his hand and slashed a shallow cut on his index finger using his nail (unnervingly sharp as a talon). He reached up to grab Harry by the neck, pulling him closer. Harry tried to pull away as the distance between them decreased, but the pressure the other kept on him was strong. Their faces were mere inches apart and he was about to jump back when Voldemort grabbed the collar, twisted it around and placed his bloody finger on a small dent in the metal, snapping it open immediately. Harry scurried backward quickly, not amused by the grin gracing the Dark Lord's lips in the least.

Harry decided to test whether he really could use his magic now, and called forth a wind that abruptly slammed into the smiling bastard in front of him, throwing him back into the wall and kept him pinned there. Harry smirked; a little retribution was in order. Voldemort grunted, and Harry felt his power rising to the challenge, trying to force back the pressure keeping him in place. As the wind was gradually loosing advantage, Harry muttered an enchantment and a spinning ball of concentrated wind energy appeared before him, shaping itself and becoming bigger and bigger. Voldemort's eyes widened when he realized what he was about to do, and managed to free himself to jump aside in the nick of time, right before the thing hit him. He sent a _Cruciatus _curse toward Harry as the swirling ball slammed into the wall and exploded with a loud bang, ripping huge gashes in the whole room upon the walls, cutting the desk in half and destroying the door completely. The blades of wind evaded Harry without fail, but he had to conjure a shield to protect himself from the nasty curse Voldemort fired at him.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Harry from the other end of the room, healing his arm with his wand where the wind managed to draw blood. Harry quirked a brow.

"What? Not so high and mighty now that I can protect myself? Why aren't you fighting back properly? A simple little curse will not harm me, you know. Use your element!"

"Fool! I will not burn down my office because of your petty vendetta. If you do not wish to learn, leave." Harry looked at him disdainfully.

"I _will_ duel you one day. We will have to see who the stronger one is." he grinned. Harry swore he saw an answering grin on the man's face, but it was gone so fast, he could not be sure it was even there.

"Now," Voldemort began, and flicked his wand to return the room to its former state. "would you sit down so we can start?"

"Fine." Harry dropped down on the chair, watching the man expectantly. "So what do we do?"

Voldemort slowly made his way back to his respective place, looking Harry squarely in the eyes.

"You have found your _locus mens*__1 _already, correct?" Harry nodded. "Good. However, I'm sure you noticed our connection is not something usual. In theory, a normal telepathic connection presents itself as something like a tie between two or more people. When a person connected to the other touches their end of the bond, they immediately connect with each other and are able to convey thoughts as if it were normal speech.

Our bond though, is special in that it makes us capable of discerning the emotions of the other; we can feel what the other does any time we wish. Tell me; what does your _locus mens_ look like, and how am I present in it?"

"Well, every time I meditate I see it as a huge forest. There are no animals in it or anything, only huge trees and grass and it's always dark. And there is this huge wall-"

"A wall?" Voldemort asked with his eyebrows drawn together.

"Yeah, on the premise of the forest. I can't break it down, even though I tried repeatedly. I thought that was where you and I were connected." Voldemort looked thoughtful for a while, staring ahead without truly seeing Harry.

"That is interesting. Can you tell me more about it?" Harry was a little perplexed. Was it not the same for him? Maybe he just visualized it differently?

"Don't you see it as well? I thought that was where our minds were connected or something."

"Stupid kit. How could there be two separate minds in one _locus mens_? That is not our connection, I assure you. I thought you learned more than to think something that ridiculous was possible." Harry grimaced. Occlumency was never his strong point, and it took him triple the work to be able to raise shields around his mind, than it would have for a normal person. He strongly suspected that it had something to do with that wall, but in the end he managed, although barely. He simply included it in the shield as well. It took more energy to maintain, but the result was what counted.

"You already broke in more times than I can count. Can't you just take a look at it yourself?" Harry grumbled.

"I can't get into your _locus mens_ directly. I can hear you and feel you, I can even send images to you or witness your dreams, but I can't just transport myself in there. It may or may not be possible to break in if I was to possess your body, but I'm not sure about that either." Harry nodded his understanding. Who knew the legendary Dark Lord would be such a good teacher? He was explaining everything clearly enough for Harry to understand at once, unlike Snape's and Grigory's sorry attempts to do the same.

Harry murmured a charm that allowed him to project the image he desired for Voldemort's inspection. As his forest gained form, he pointed out the wall he had been talking about, watching for other's reaction.

* * *

Voldemort had to fight very hard to conceal the look of utter shock from his face. He had not seen something like this in all the long years he had lived, and that was saying quite something. Similar things; yes, but this was so excessive it was not even funny.

A good chunk of Potter's mind – and thus, personality – was locked away from access, even from the boy himself. The wall barricaded him away from feeling emotions that were stuck behind it. A block like that was practically unbreakable, especially, as he saw on a closer inspection, when the wall had been present for so long. It has nearly grown to be part of Potter's mind, melding into the foundation seamlessly. It had to have been erected back when he was no more than an infant. That posed an interesting question; who put it there? If it was the one who he had in mind… But those were thoughts for another time.

Voldemort studied the block with great interest. He was a little taken aback upon discovering how weathered it looked in some places; there was even a point where a small hole opened up and allowed him to see through to the other side. Was that where the initial seed of doubt entered the boy's mind? For this to happen, the boy must have gone through a huge trauma, more than once probably. Voldemort suspected it started crumbling at his resurrection and only deteriorated more with the fight in the Ministry.

But would the old fart really stoop so low? Would he go to this extent only to make one child more compliant and easier to manipulate? It was hard to believe something like this could be done by the self-proclaimed leader of the Light. Voldemort smiled to himself; this could turn out to be an unforeseen blessing for him. He was looking forward to see the boy that would emerge when he became whole again.

* * *

Harry eyed the Dark Lord warily. He had been muttering and smirking to himself for the last five minutes, not paying attention to Harry's attempts to question him. What had him so excited? Harry had a bad feeling about it.

"Potter," Harry jerked as his name was called. "I will tear down that wall for you. I don't think it will hurt, but I can't be sure."

"Hey, wait a second!" he protested. "You haven't even told me what it is!"

"It is a block to prevent certain aspects of your personality emerging. It is illegal magic, but it's very rarely found out. You've probably had it cast upon you when you were still a babe."

"A block?" Harry frowned, not really getting it. "Why would someone put it there?"

"I have a theory, but I'm not sure you're ready to hear it yet. Let me take care of it first, we can talk about the rest later." Harry looked at him suspiciously, narrowing his gaze in warning.

"I am not letting you point that wand at me until you don't explain this properly. I don't trust you." Voldemort puffed out an exasperated breath.

"What do you want to know then?"

"For starters; who do you think it was who cast it? You obviously have someone in mind."

"Dumbledore, of course. He's the only wizard powerful enough to make it so strong. And he's the one who had cause to use it."

"Cause?"

"Yes. As I said, the block prevents you from feeling certain emotions. I suspect the ones Dumbledore deemed as negative traits were all locked up nicely, to make it easier for him to control you. I see some cracks on the wall however; those are probably the loopholes allowing you to doubt him in the first place. After all, expecting the worst from a person would be, according to his oh-so-clean morals, bad, and so he made you trust the 'innate goodness of humans' blindly. I have no way to tell the full extent of the block, but it is huge. The method was used by the Ministry in the past to keep dark wizards that committed criminal acts under check. It was banned though, because of some 'human rights' nonsense." Harry paled rapidly as Voldemort spoke. Was this really possible?

"No way. There is no way Dumbledore would have done such a thing! I mean yeah, he made bad decisions and pissed me off with his preaching, but this is too much!"

"Don't be stupid. Try to see the matter clearly. Weren't you going to fight against him anyway? This just gives you an even more valid reason."

"No! I mean… Yeah, but I wasn't going to seriously hurt him!" Voldemort smirked.

"Really? Then what did you think my offer entailed? Do you think I would have left him roam around free after your confrontation?"

"But-"

"Listen to me, Potter. I will remove the block for you. You can decide for yourself later." Harry regarded him uncertainly. Could he trust him? No, of course not. But would Voldemort do as he said? Yes, because Harry was useful to him. For the time being, at least. He nodded once, slowly. The Dark Lord smiled.

"Good. Now sit still. As I said, I'm not sure what you will feel of this, if anything at all."

Harry took a deep breath. He could do this. But what would he become? How did he feel about finding all this out? He did not know. Not that it mattered. After all, who was to say these were his real emotions? Harry gulped. What a disconcerting thought.

* * *

*1: Location of the mind (not literally, obviously). And I don't speak Latin, so it may be incorrect for all I know. Oh well, it sounds good! LoL

Okaaay, so darker Harry will be gradually emerging from now on. Next chapter will be out soon!

I have a great bombshell in store for you all btw, so be ready! *ke ke ke*


	6. Whole

Thank you all for the reviews! I got some seriously awesome ones this time! XD

**Disclaimer**: Is it even necessary? Fine fine, Harry Potter is still not mine.

**Warnings**: Nothing new

~This is Parseltongue~

"This is normal speech"

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Whole

* * *

Rage. Hate. Malice. Indifference. Cruelty. Jealousy. So many emotions assaulting him all at once, tearing him apart with their intensity. And power. So much power.

Harry was cold. His whole body was racked by uncontrollable shivers, cold sweat coating his skin. Where was he? More than that; _who_ was he? He kept floating in dark weightlessness for what seemed like an eternity. It was nothingness itself. _He_ was nothing.

He did not particularly care about anything; the cold, the blackness, the loneliness. After all, he was nothing. But suddenly, a small boy appeared before him. Harry turned to look at him slowly, not yet overly interested. The child was small, had raven black hair sticking up in the oddest of ways and he wore a pair of round glasses. Haunting green eyes peered at him from behind the lens, clearly expecting something. Harry tried to ask him what he wanted, but he couldn't speak. What was speech anyway? What were words? He did not know.

The image of the boy flickered for a moment, before disappearing completely. When Harry looked around to see where he went, he found himself in a house, watching a family sitting around a table, chatting with each other merrily. The child from before was there as well, but no one paid attention to him, no one talked to him. He was not a part of them. He was eating without a sound, doing his best to do so slowly, in order for the meager portion on his plate to last just a little while longer.

A sudden bark of laughter startled him, causing a glass of water to crash to the ground as his thin elbow jerked at the loud sound. Everyone turned to him, regarding him with deep contempt. Hate. The big beefy man shot up from his chair, hitting the small boy so hard, he flew a few inches before crashing to the floor. The man went after him, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him to the bottom of a staircase. He opened a cupboard and kicked him inside, shutting the door and locking it with a key he slipped into his pocket after he was done.

Was that…? Was that Harry? Yes… Harry was him, wasn't he?

He remembered now! The Dursleys; that was where he grew up. Why had he let them beat him repeatedly? Why was he so damn helpless? And then Hogwarts… Why did he accept the responsibility others forced upon him? Why had he _smiled_ at the people who wanted nothing more than to use him? Why did he not fight? Why was he so resigned? Harry was absolutely disgusted with himself and the feeling just kept on increasing with every new memory he called forth. Was that really him? That weak _thing_? He snarled at his eleven year old self sitting in a hospital bed with his old headmaster by his side.

_ "What is it he doesn't have?" The child asked innocently. Dumbledore smiled at him with his trademark twinkling eyes, patting his shoulder affectionately. It was directly after he saved the Phisolopher's stone from falling into the hands of the so-called 'evil'._

_ "Love, Harry, it is love."_

A scream of pure rage tore through his throat. He would get his revenge! He would get revenge on everyone who dared look down on him! On those who thought they could manipulate him using the kind and innocent heart of a half-broken boy, never mind how artificial that innocence may have been! They would pay!

* * *

Voldemort watched the figure floating above him with something akin to fascination.

As soon as he finished the incantation to free the boy's mind it was as if something inside him had snapped. Power poured through his very pores, calling forth the element belonging to him. Wind had surrounded him at once, swirling with such force; the Dark Lord had been pushed backward with ease. Potter was raised into the air by the terrifying mass and hung there for so long, Voldemort nearly thought he would have to spell him down.

Then, he felt rage. The youth's anger was physically affecting him with its strength. And that's when it happened; fire, inextinguishable by the pure heat of it, burst forth around him, cocooning his body as a mother would do protecting her child. The flames did not harm him, even though the power with which they burned was beyond anything nature could ever hope to produce. Much like his own.

Voldemort recalled Grigory mentioning the boy had the affinity, but he did not truly believe it. Not until now. Elements were not so easily gained; one had to be compatible with them to have any chance to wield them. A pure-hearted and good natured boy, Griffindor in everything but name, could not possibly hold enough anger, red-hot rage, for the fire element to even consider him. But what the Dark Lord felt emanating from Potter right then was darkness almost as all-consuming as his own. He wondered just what kind of life the boy had exactly, for it to reach such a level. It was also hard to imagine the enormity of the block if all of this had been locked away up until now, without so much as a trace.

The Dark Lord smiled a rare, true smile. How long ago it was, when he last felt any real interest in anything. Voldemort had not felt like this since the time he first learned he was to be a wizard. A thrill ran through his body, the fire of a new challenge igniting his long cold veins. He would have this boy. He would make sure of that. It was a pity he would have to kill him eventually, but that could not be helped. They were enemies after all, despite the fragile truce they now held.

As Potter began his descent back down, the Dark Lord snapped out of his reverie, hurrying to his side at once. He still found it hard to wrap his mind around what he just saw, so he decided to take precautions and aimed his wand at the unconscious form. He made his way to him with careful, measured steps.

"Give them to me." he heard Potter whisper as soon as he got near enough to pick it up.

"Who are you talking about?"

"The fucking rat and the crazy bitch. They're mine."

Voldemort grinned; he was looking forward to a good-good time.

* * *

Harry wanted them dead. He wanted them to suffer in the deepest pits of hell for the rest of eternity. Mercy was beyond him by that point.

"Give me Bellatrix and Pettigrew. I'm sure you could spare them as a gift for your newest ally, hm?"

"Why would I give up two of my faithful followers as a _gift_? What do you want with them?" Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"The oversized worm deserves death for the destruction of my family. So does that crazed creature you call a woman for murdering Sirius. Do not deny me this; I would go after them with or without your permission anyway." Voldemort cocked a brow.

"You can have Pettigrew. Bella however, has her uses still. I cannot afford to lose her right now." Harry nodded stiffly. Voldemort was being fair enough. He could live with that decision as long as he had a shot at Bellatrix later on. He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. With the anger draining from him rapidly though, he felt the world tilt and lay back down abruptly. He began to shake, tremors of fatigue running through his system.

He was distantly shocked, even appalled at his own thoughts and intentions, but it was not enough for him to regret any of it. Finally, after a life spent in shame and unjustified guilt, he _finally_ felt whole. He was free in the oddest sense of the word; he was himself. Although the block was never something he noticed, but now that it was gone, he could hardly even comprehend how it was possible for him to live the way he had. He was now nothing like the simple minded idiot Dumbledore had made him into. The self-sacrificing fool was nothing but a bad memory.

Of course, this did not mean he ceased to feel all the other emotions he had up until then, but Harry was no longer blinded by them; there was something there to balance them out, make them appreciated. After all; what was light without darkness? And since the goodness inside him had always been abnormally huge, an equal amount of darkness was necessary to keep him whole. Harry grinned; he could see everything so clearly! As unconsciousness took him again, his last thought was a rush of gratefulness – to Voldemort.

It was a few hours later when Harry bolted upright with his scream echoing in his own ears. Apparently, getting your fair share of emotions back did not make one any less susceptible to nightmares of the past. Harry plopped back down on the soft mattress, recalling what had happened. The feeling of release had been euphoric; nothing he had experienced so far could measure up to it.

Suddenly remembering something, his hand shot up to touch his neck. Nothing. Harry laughed out loud when the only thing he encountered was soft skin. No collar has been forced upon him. An amused chuckle had him snapping his head sideways to stare into deep, crimson eyes.

"I did try to put it back. It seems you have ruined my little device though." Harry raised an eyebrow, answering amusement glinting in his gaze as well.

"A pity." he answered with sarcasm practically dripping from his tone. Harry sobered up quickly though. "Listen now, because I'm only saying this once." he took a deep breath " … Thanks." Voldemort grinned and inclined his head. However much Harry would have wished it to be someone – anyone – else to be the one to free his mind, it was undoubtedly the damn snake he now owed a debt to. In the wizarding world, debts were not something to be trifled with.

"How long have I been out?" Harry asked after sitting up with some difficulty.

"Almost the whole day. All that power you pumped out took its toll on your body."

"Power?" Harry frowned.

"You called out your element after the block crumbled. You tore down my ceiling."

"Oh. Well, sorry I guess." Voldemort only shrugged.

"We will continue your lessons tomorrow; you are in no shape for it right now. We should discuss some of our plans however." Harry nodded silently and Voldemort continued.

"The hardest part will be getting near Dumbledore. The old fool is almost never alone. He surrounds himself with members of the Order and acts like they're his personal body guards. For us to succeed, we have to get him alone in one way or another." Harry's back stiffened at the mention of his old headmaster's name. Oh how he would love to see him on his knees before him, in pain and begging him for forgiveness. The image caused a wicked smile to appear on his face, and it was not a nice one. When Voldemort caught his gaze, he saw a very similar expression on him. They watched each other grinning like idiotic children after swallowing a particularly tasty treat.

They continued plotting for hours, and it was almost morning by the time they realized how long they have been sitting there. Voldemort was a surprisingly fun companion; sometimes Harry had even managed to forget how much he hated the man. At one point, they had fallen into a heated debate about dark and light magic that had Harry nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement. Voldemort was the first person with views similar to his own that he met. Even Grigory had been more on the light side than anything else.

"Magic in itself is not evil. It is the freedom of the user what to do with it." Voldemort had said.

"Exactly! It's like saying the Dark Lord is a light wizard if he uses light magic. Ridiculous!"

"Also, it's not as if light magic cannot be used for 'evil' purposes. For example, you could fly a knife right into the heart of someone, but the charm would still be considered light."

"Right. The whole wizarding populace is such a bigoted lot. Kind of sad, how they blind themselves to possibilities because of stupid terms."

As the first rays of sunlight made their entrance into the study, Harry stretched in his chair. He yawned with abandon as Voldemort watched him with a slight smile.

"How about we call it a day? I need my beauty sleep."

"Don't let me hold you up. But I must warn you not to leave your room. There is going to be a meeting held later in the day." Harry grinned.

"Aw, Tom, don't you trust me? Cross my heart, I won't try to kill anyone." The curse was already flying at him before he had the chance to finish the sentence. Harry quickly conjured a shield and it bounced off harmlessly, crashing into the wall.

"Hey, that was nasty! That would have gutted me you know!"

"I already told you not to call me that. Try keeping that in mind next time." Voldemort answered coolly. Harry just smirked at him while he made his way to the door.

"So what should I call you? My Great Lordness?" he chuckled. "Go again. I think I will stand by my first choice." Another curse was already heading his way and Harry quickly slammed the door shut before it could reach him. He heard Tom growling behind his desk but he only laughed harder and headed back to his room.

It was well into the evening when Harry felt the tell-tale signs of apparations in the house. He had been bored out of his brains with nothing to do but sleep and stare at immaculate white walls. A little adventure was in order.

He got up and walked to the door, unlocking it with a few soft words. He knew there were wards ahead by the stairs, and since he had no intentions of alerting Tom that he left his room, he began tearing them down one by one with great precision. If he was not careful, they would explode on him as an inbuilt self-defense mechanism, so Harry had to pay extra attention to the ones that were connected to such curses. It took him a good twenty minutes to get through and he wiped perspiration off his forehead before he began sneaking toward the place where he felt the magical signatures of more than a dozen people.

When he opened the door he found himself face to face with fourteen wands pointed directly at him. As he scanned the people sitting around the large table, he locked eyes with Tom in all his noseless glory. Harry grimaced; Tom was no eye-candy like that.

"Hi!" he waved at the assembly cheerily. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"How dare you? State your name you filthy insolent fool! Bow before our Lord!" he heard a familiar voice screech. He turned to her slowly, perfectly calm for all appearances. Inside however, he was nearly consumed by hate and loathing.

"Why hello, Bella. Long time no see, eh?" the woman scrunched her face into a confused expression.

"I don't know you!" she shouted. Harry's lips lifted into a cruel smile.

"Of course. _Crucio_." He watched her tumble off her chair with satisfaction. She screamed in agony, but Harry did not let up even after more than a minute. He sensed the dangerous spell flying at him without even looking and he pulled up his shield around him before it had a chance to get closer. Slowly, almost teasingly, he let up the intensity of the curse and watched Bellatrix collapse on the cold stone floor. Saliva was trickling down her chin and her body was racked by shudders.

Another spell came at him, and he turned to see the Dark Lord regarding him levelly. Oh yeah, he did say he wanted Bella alive. Harry shrugged and grinned at him and – although barely – he sensed an answering twitch on the other's lips.

"My faithful servants; this is Ted. He is my guest and a new ally to further our noble cause." Harry shot him a murderous glare, but Voldemort only cocked an eyebrow.

~Who are you calling Ted, you bastard?~ he hissed in Parseltongue. ~Don't you have any creativity left in that dark and malicious mind of yours?~

~Who told you to leave your room? I wasn't planning on introducing you yet you know.~

"Damn snake." Harry muttered. Now all the Death Eaters would know him as a chap named T-fucking-ed. Wonderful.

Some of the cloaked figures gasped at his insult. Harry knew most of them were already cowed by his little show with Bellatrix, but he supposed it was absolutely unheard of for anyone to insult their Lord. He grinned; he was not about to fall to his knees and cover before the man. Truthfully, he doubted Tom would have appreciated it anyway. Harry was aware he was enjoying their bantering nearly as much as he did. He could just imagine how long ago it must have been for someone to talk back at him.

Harry made his way to Tom's end of the table and conjured a chair for himself beside him. He plopped down and let his gaze travel over the group. The room was so quiet; he doubted anyone was even breathing, not counting the panting mad-woman on the floor.

"So, what's the agenda? Don't mind me folks, just continue whatever you were doing until now, hm? Torture, blood and gore – it's music to my ears." Harry heard Tom choke beside him quietly and he grinned at him again. What a surprise; did the all powerful Lord have a sense of humor? Who knew?

* * *

A new update so quickly! :D I just can't seem to lay this story to rest for even five minutes! Every time I try to concentrate on something else it comes popping back into my mind and I end up working on it anyway! That's a prime example for ADHD for you! XD

Anyway, if you have a minute to spare I would love to read your reviews!


	7. Debate

Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. J.K Rowling is not shimmer-light.

* * *

Great reviews! Thanks to everyone who took the time to leave one! All of them are really encouraging!

Drawn: Your question inspired me! I did not even think about that aspect yet, but after reading your review I decided to wave it into the story instead of skipping right where I originally wanted to. Ah well, it will have to wait until the next chapy! XD

Miss C Riddle: Yep yep! I'm also a little impatient to get there, but I would like the events to be as realistic as possible. This chapter does have some treats in it though! ;)

**Warnings**: language, suggestive m/m situations, implication of child abuse and violence

"This is normal speech."

~This is Parseltongue.~

**_This is silent speech._**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Debate

* * *

After the Death Eaters somewhat regained their composure, the meeting commenced without further delay. Harry recognized most of the faces that were present and he watched them with undisguised interest.

He of course knew Snape and Lucius Malfoy and was mildly surprised to note Draco was there as well. Although he was aware it should not have been all that strange, but he had thought the boy would back out at the first opportunity that presented itself, given his cowardly nature. He smirked at the blond, but he obviously did not know who Harry really was. He was sure if he did, he would have had a fit right there.

The others he only remembered by sight; like Nott, Crable, Goyle, McNair, Rodolphus Lestrange, Yaxley, Dolohov and so on. He wondered why the circle has not changed in all those years he had been away. Did Tom enjoy surrounding himself with these degenerates? They were such a sorry bunch; it was a miracle they were capable of tying their shoelaces without help, let alone carry out orders, especially Crab and Goyle. However, he noted to himself wryly, their sons were something even Tom had a hard time to stomach if Harry's suspicions regarding their notable absences had any truth to them.

Cho Chang was missing though. Why had she not been invited? Tom had said he did not want to introduce him yet and – and here he glared at the man currently staring ahead and looking very bored – had even graced him with an alias in order to conceal Harry's identity. So why had he told Cho? How had she known who he was? He was determined to get to the bottom of it whether Tom told him by his own volition or not. Wormtail was also absent from their ranks, but that was not that surprising, considering this was supposed to be Tom's inner circle of trusties, and the rat was anything but.

"… filthy muggles." The words caught Harry's attention and he snapped out of his reverie to pay attention to the conversation. Until then the discussion had only flowed around half-assed plans to overtake the Ministry, the Death Eaters offering increasingly ridiculous strategies Tom did not even bother to acknowledge.

"We should go on a raid soon, I'm getting so bored!" Nott complained.

"You remember that family from last time? When the woman wouldn't die until we let the brat go? Man, that was hilarious! She just kept begging and crawling, and the bitch wouldn't let go of my cloak until I cut her filthy hand off!" Yaxley laughed while banging his fists on the table, calling attention to the so-called hilarity of the story. Harry stared at them with rising ire; these people were scum that deserved no less than what they gave. Did they get off on torturing the weak? Did that make them feel better about themselves? Not that Harry had a problem with torture, not at all, but senseless murder of the innocent set his blood boiling. It was one thing for him to agree to cooperate with Tom and mete out punishment on the deserving, but he would not – could not - approve the ways his Death Eaters operated. Harry hoped, for Tom's sake as well, that he did not expect him to participate in their little hunts. In all honesty, even hearing about it made him want to slaughter the whole lot of them right there.

A loud yelp pulled his attention to his side where Goyle sat, gaping at him fearfully and slowly backing away. Harry regarded him with confusion and noticed the room had gone abnormally quiet again. What was their problem? It was not as if he snapped at them; he did not even change his expression for the last fifteen minutes so much as an eyebrow twitch.

_**~Calm your temper, boy! Do you want to fry my servants to death?~**_ Tom's hiss sounded in Harry's mind.

_**~What the hell are you talking about?~ **_Harry shot back angrily.

_**~If you don't calm down you're going to set the room on fire! Concentrate!~ **_

Harry blinked. Fire? What on earth was Snake-face talking about? When he looked down though, he noticed the wooden table was beginning to char at the edge. He watched in absolute fascination as the wood blackened, as if an invisible flame was licking at it, burning the material. Except, there was no fire to be seen at all. Was it really him who was causing it? But his Element was wind! How was this possible?

Harry closed his eyes. He tried imagining happy thoughts to quench the rage inside him. It seemed to be working; the table stopped smoking and the blackening stopped expanding. When he thought about what he would do if someone called him _Ted_ ever again, he mentally grinned with glee and the room heaved a collective sigh of relief.

_**~What was that?~**_ he asked, glancing at Tom. _**~How did I gain fire? I thought an Elemental Mage could only have one element.~**_ That was what Grigory had told him in any case, back when he tested him. Recalling it now, his mentor did act a little strange after performing the spell that let him see what Harry would be able to command, but he had thought nothing of it, even forgot all about it as the training commenced.

_**~I will explain later. Now, would you mind not disrupting the meeting any more than you already have?~**_

_**~Aw Tom, I know you're having fun. Don't try to deny it.~**_ Harry purred. He had the distinct feeling, the only reason they were not firing off curses at each other again after that, was because the man did not want to scare the shit out of his cute slaves any more than necessary. And Harry was sure he was pretty put off with him for the show of strength he demonstrated before. He was the one who was supposed to be the all-powerful Lord after all, not Harry, and mouthing off at him was a nice big red button he should not push on _too_ much. Not in front of his cronies, in any case – Harry silently added with amusement.

"I wonder who the new Minister will be. Much will depend on who they appoint as a replacement for Shacklebolt."

"Lucius?"

Malfoy nodded in his own aristocratic way, sitting with a posture Harry thought ought to have been painful; no one would be capable of keeping it up without a dildo up their arse after all. Tom nearly spat out the water he had been calmly drinking a second ago, and Harry had a moment of indignation at his thoughts being overheard. He realized there was not much he could have done about it and was looking forward to the lessons with Tom more than ever.

"From what I have gathered, Marlene Higgins has the biggest supporting crowd. It is likely she will win the elections."

"That is good news, thank you Lucius." Tom spoke for the first time. "She is a weak-willed light fanatic, it will be easy to manipulate her with the right bait. Make sure Browns and Abraldo know what to do. It is crucial they get to her before she has a chance to act on her own. Understood?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Anything I should know about the Order? Did they make their move yet?" Tom asked Snape in a cool tone.

"My Lord, they appear to be regrouping after our last attack. Dumbledore is almost never seen outside of Hogwarts or their Headquarters." Harry briefly wondered why Tom allowed Snape to live. He had to know about the man's betrayal; he was nothing but a greasy little double agent working for Dumbledore.

"As expected. We have some time now without having to worry about them to set our plans in motion. How long will it take them to rebuild their defenses? When will they attack?"

"One or two weeks, at the most." Tom nodded.

"That's plenty enough. Severus, I trust you'll tell me if anything changes? Good. If you ever see an opportunity for us to corner the old fool, come to me immediately."

"Yes my Lord."

_**~Why would you trust the two-faced beak with something like that? I'm honestly surprised you're keeping him around for anything other than some '**_**light'**_** entertainment. I can imagine how wonderful his agonized begging would sound, but you actually trust him with missions?~**_ Harry sent the thought with a barely concealed snicker tugging at his facial muscles.

_**~He serves his purposes nicely. I am perfectly aware of his allegiances as well, cheeky brat.~**_

_**~Hmpf. Calling me a brat is not getting you in my good graces.~**_

_**~Neither will your constant insults get you in mine.~**_

_**~Well, right now you **_**are**_** a snake-face, so that's not really an insult, mind you. And Tom is your name.~**_

_**~Brat.~**_

_**~Snake.~**_

The gathering was called to an end within the next five minutes and the Death Eaters all left the table as one. Bellatrix was still looking quite dead, lying motionless on the floor, but no one paid her any mind. Harry shrugged and stepped over her body, 'accidentally' landing a kick on her spine for good measure. Tom sighed behind him as they walked to the door, but showed no outward reaction to his follower being so dreadfully mistreated otherwise. As the crowd continued toward the entrance of the mansion and spilled out into the open to apparate, the two of them turned on the corridor leading to Harry's room at the top of the stairs.

"Following me to make sure I don't get kidnapped on the way?" Harry quipped at his silent companion. "A house elf would be sufficient if you're so worried about your treasured guest."

"Hardly." The Lord drawled in a dry tone. "I'm visiting the dungeon. It's the same way."

"You have a dungeon? Who are you keeping down there? Don't tell me it's some poor muggle! Your ideals are really fucked up about this whole hunting business. What did those people ever do to you?" The man stopped so abruptly, Harry did not even notice and took a few steps before turning to look back. He winced slightly as he saw the expression on Tom's face; he may have managed to upset the man for real this time.

"Those weak bugs don't deserve any better treatment!" his voice was shaking with barely contained furry. "The filthy animals are less than dirt under my feet, and I would advise you not to mention this in the future again. Do not question me like that unless you want to be dead by the next day. I will not tolerate disrespect." he finished, walking closer to Harry menacingly.

"How are they any less than you? Just because they don't have magic it doesn't mean they are completely useless. Their technologies are amazing, if you'd but bother to take notice." Tom grabbed Harry by the neck, slamming him into the wall. He snarled at him, baring his pointy teeth, the slits on the middle of his face flaring wide. Harry decided this probably was not the right time to mention his promise about not touching him.

He began calling for wind, preparing to throw the enraged man off him. Nothing happened though, except for a small breeze rushing past them. '_Don't panick don't panick don't panick_' he repeated it like a mantra to himself. Why was his element not responding properly? Harry tried again; this time the wind did come, but absolutely ignored Harry's bidding, getting stronger and stronger until he had to release it or risk getting seriously injured himself. What the hell was happening? Tom laughed at him cruelly, flashing crimson boring into emerald green.

"What is it little Mage? Has your Element deserted you?" he leaned closer and tightened his hold, almost completely cutting off Harry's air. "I'm afraid it won't be so easy; you have now gained fire with your true personality surfacing. This means you will have to relearn controlling both – wind and fire as well." _Shit_. Harry lifted his hand to curse Tom with the nastiest spell he could think of, but the man grabbed his wrist and lifted it above his head, forcing it to the wall. As much as Harry struggled, the other's physical strength was undoubtedly superior to his own, even if it was hard to admit it.

"Jesus, calm down! What is your problem?"

"You will not disrespect me this way! I am the Dark Lord, one of the most powerful wizards ever born! I will end any life as I see fit and no one has a right to question it! The disgusting muggles and Mudbloods deserve what they get!"

"Why would they deserve it? You're a Half blood yourself! And you can't condemn every last one of them based on the limited experiences you have from your childhood!"

"Don't you ever mention that again!" Tom spat while tightening his hold.

"What you're doing is nothing but mindless slaughter! You're not going to gain anything by it besides fear and animosity!"

"I am the leader of a revolution! A war! There is no change brought without death! How dare you scorn me, insolent fool!"

"Yes, they are bound to be causalities in a war; senseless death is not something we can avoid entirely. But, that does not mean it should be encouraged! What is the point of killing off all the muggles anyway? Without them, wizards would gradually die out as well!" Tom stared at him without blinking. Harry took that as a sign he could continue without being on the receiving end of a killing curse for the moment.

"If you don't allow muggle-borns entrance into the wizarding world and the freedom to learn magic, only reserving the rights for the Purebloods, interbreeding would inevitably cause the decrease of new births and would increase the amount of children with disabilities; most noticeably the lack of magic. Every third baby in Pureblood families is already born as a squib! If that does not convince you, you are a bigger idiot than I have ever imagined!" Harry took a raspy breath as Tom's fingers loosened allowing air through his bruised windpipe.

"Can't you see? Fresh blood is needed for the magic to prosper – cutting the new lines off by the roots is little more than suicide for the wizarding culture!" Tom regarded him through narrowed eyes.

"Although what you say may not be completely stupid, I still hate muggles. I will kill any of them when and where ever I like. I will simply not wipe out all of them and will allow them to breed." he hissed angrily.

"And if I say I will help you if it stops? I will willingly join your cause if you lay your notion of murdering innocent people at every turn to rest. As a matter of fact, your goals do make sense; you're just going about it in the wrong way. I could help you if you would listen to reason for once and stop wallowing in self pity and unreasonable hate."

"What makes you think you are valuable enough for me to even consider this?" Harry snorted at that.

"If you did not think I was useful I would have been dead the second we met at that pub, maybe even before. So? Do we have a deal?" Tom was silent for a few moments and Harry very much hoped he was considering the offer, not the various ways to kill someone slowly and painfully.

"I will think about it." Harry grinned at him. The effects of the polijuice potion have been steadily wearing off during the Harry-strangling session and Tom had by then morphed back into his original appearance. Harry supposed that answered why Nagini had always been kept so close; she had to be the donor.

Tom's hand that had been resting on Harry's neck slowly trailed across his collarbone continuing down a path toward his chest. Harry only noticed what an awkward position they were in after his brain registered the seductive touch Tom switched to; he was forced against the wall, his hand held above his head with Tom standing between his legs, his body tight against his own. A thigh rubbed against his most sensitive area, making him shudder. Tom bent down further and nipped at the sensitive flesh behind his ear, trailing feathery kisses downwards. He lifted his head slightly, giving Harry a positively predatory smirk, before moving back to his earlier task. To Harry's horror, he was beginning to react in a most basic manner and it did not take long for Tom to notice. The man chuckled darkly and growled against the small part of flesh his tongue had been attached to.

"Get. Off. Me." Harry gritted out. He still hated the man with a passion, despite the mutual understanding they have reached earlier. It was disgusting to even think about the two of them together in that manner and he was even more disgusted with himself for reacting to it. Not that he had any choice; any man would react the same way to this kind of stimulation! Right?

When Tom ignored him, he felt his ire rising again; he was getting almost as angry as he had been during the meeting. Harry encouraged the rage and he did not have to wait long for the effect; the air around them grew hotter and hotter, and as Tom noticed, he abruptly leaned backward to look at him.

"You cannot harm me with fire, kit. You should know that."

"You have made a promise you are now blatantly breaking despite my warning. Do you wish to end our agreement?" Tom lifted an eyebrow at him, as he slowly let go of his hand and backed away a step.

"You were enjoying yourself as much as I was." he glanced pointedly at Harry's crotch.

"_Carnifico*1_!"

"_Crusta Membrana_!*2

"_Expeliarmus_!"

As Tom dodged the last spell, Harry heard a loud crash at the end of the hallway. As another curse came flying at him he conjured a shield instead of jumping away, to get a better look at the source of the noise. The closer he got, the bigger the grin on his face became.

"Hey, Tom! If I get to play with him now, I'll forgive you this once! How about it?" Tom laughed at the abrupt change of attitude, but answered anyway.

"That's what I was going to the dungeon for; Wormtail's quarters are down there as well."

"If you're trying to get in my good graces like that, I assure you it's working."

"Good. That is exactly what I'm doing. He's all yours."

"I really would hug you if I didn't hate you so much I'd rather gut you. No hard feelings though, right?"

Tom chuckled and headed back to his chamber for the night. Harry guessed this meant their lessons would have to wait until tomorrow, not that he minded. He had much better things to do; namely to play cat-and-rat with the traitorous scum that was currently kneeling not even 30 feet away, gathering dropped items he had been carrying on a tray. Harry was looking forward to a delightful evening, made only better by the knowledge that he managed to convince the murdering sociopath about how much better it would be if he discarded the 'murdering' and kept only the 'sociopath'. All in all, it had been a good day.

* * *

*1: Beheads the opponent (dark magic)

*2: Peals the skin off the body (dark magic)

**A/N**:

A new chapter again! XD

Even though I began another story, I will update as frequently as I can! I kinda like the other one better, but I promise not shirk my duties on this one either! LoL

I hope you like my dark Harry; I tried to make him more realistic and balanced than completely dark, and I did my best to make it sound right.

He has evil tendencies, but I wanted him to keep some of his good natured traits too.

Reviews will make me super happy, so feel free to leave one if you have some spare time! :)


	8. Secret Room

Harry Potter would definitely be named something else if he belonged to me. But seems like he's staying Harry.

* * *

Oh my! Reviews are piling up and I'm really happy! It may be true I write for my own enjoyment, but positive feedback is always so… so… positive, I guess. Thank you all!

Wolf 15846: Yay! XD Thanks a lot!

nanzhela: I really like constant reviews, they're the best! Thanks!

Kamorie: Sorry, no graphic torture in this one, but it is more than possible later on! :P Didn't want the story to drag with it now.

Shire Fey: *shrugs* A lot of things can still happen and I just may end up doing something unexpected. But in the long run, it will probably be Tom. Hope you're not too cross with that.

Panduh & elfin: glad you like it! XD

Drawn & Miss C Riddle: You two are totally awesome with your encouragement! I really like reading them every time! And yeah, he will get some control back over his elements, but not yet! *winks* How else would Tom have the chance to teach him? *smirks smirks*

**Warning**: Not much to worry about this time.

"This is normal speech."

~This is Parseltongue.~

* * *

**Chapter** **7**

Secret room

* * *

A slight smile played upon her full lips as she watched the man before her through half-lidded eyes. He had contacted her after more than a century, claiming she was the only one who could help him. Her interest piqued, she had agreed to meet him on the neutral territory of a small and muggle café in downtown London. She had been there well before the appointed time, hidden from all eyes – muggles and wizards alike. For all intents and purposes, she was not even there.

Her cute ex-student arrived not one minute before or past the time he had set. With long and graceful strides he approached the only free table, his keen eyes searching his surroundings with sharp intelligence hidden behind them. It would not be long before he noticed her, as he surely would, and so she lifted the illusion around her and stepped in his line of sight with a slightly mocking expression on her face.

Her little apprentice has not changed much, despite all the years they have not seen each other. But as she watched him more closely, she noticed a small difference. It took her some time to place the origin of the feeling; he looked exactly the same as before, not counting the change in fashion. She could not quite put her finger on it right up until the moment their eyes finally met square on. '_There'_ she thought to herself. '_That's what changed_'.

A smug look crossed her delicate but sharp features. Her boy's gaze gained a depth that had not been there before. She had a hunch that had a lot to do with the reason she was now sitting in front of him. She was looking forward to see how events would turn out. She had not had much excitement ever since her new apprentice cut ties with her; now she could finally have some much needed and missed fun.

* * *

By the time Harry left the dungeon it was already morning. He slowly made his way up the stairs from the underground rooms, a wide smile plastered on his face. If anyone was to see him then, a primal fear would have undoubtedly taken hold of them. He had shed his cloak a long while ago; he only wore a pair of soft leather pants and a once-white shirt that hung from his frame unbuttoned to his navel. He emerged from the darkness like a god of death, weak moans of distress following in his wake. Crimson splatters of blood covered him from every angle, as if he had stood in a spray. His face also had smeared red on it, making his eerie green eyes stand out so much more. Without an illusion covering it, his gaze would have unnerved even the steeliest of men with its ethereal and dangerous beauty. His pupils had by now turned the color of blood.

Harry left Wormtail relatively whole for later amusement in case he would get bored during his stay in the Snake Mansion. He headed for his room, recognizing his need for a shower before barging into Tom's quarters. Although he doubted the man would have had any problem with his appearance; most likely it would have been his high point of the day to see the saint savior of the light covered in blood from a night of torture. He padded through the hallway, the occasional drops of blood following his trail. He made his way up the second set of stairs leading to his room and noticed the repaired wards. He grinned as he saw how much stronger and more dangerous they were then the previous ones; it would take him half an hour to tear them down at the least. So Tom wanted to play. He chuckled as he thought of the great Dark Lord amusing himself with childish challenges.

As he opened the door he picked up a presence inside. Harry cautiously peeked in from behind the threshold, only to find himself blinking into the huge eyes of Canny, Tom's house elf. He let out the breath he had not known he had been holding and pushed past the small creature grumbling about how he would be putting his own wards up. He did not like the idea of Tom being able to saunter into his room any time he pleased without notice. Especially after what happened after the meeting last night… He could not be trusted to keep his word, it seemed.

Harry stomped into the bathroom banging the door shut with a loud thump, annoyed with Tom, but more than that; annoyed with himself. Why had Tom's touch felt so good? When he was threatened by him the small shockwaves of pleasure did not come, they only started up when the intent of the touch changed to something else. Harry was by then almost sure it had something to do with the fire element inside him, but why did it not react to _every_ touch? It made no sense, especially considering Tom did not seem to be able to feel it. That is what he claimed, in any case. But it was driving Harry mad to know he could hardly resist the pull of those seductive caresses; his very core responded to them and made him react without any conscious decision on his part. And he did not even fancy men!

True, there was not much of a sex life there was to talk about regarding his esteemed self, but he never once thought about being with a man. During the years of training with Grigory he did not have much time to go around chasing potential girlfriends, but he did have two on and off relationships with muggle girls. Granted, he did not really enjoy them, he was too absorbed in the learning of his element to truly care about anything else, but he never noticed that boys would interest him in the slightest. He liked curves and breasts and pretty faces. A flash of his parting with Grigory came to his mind and he shuddered with the memory. It had felt good… but Harry pushed that thought as far from his conscious mind as possible as soon as it registered.

Anyhow, speaking about elements… It was a huge blow for the wind to suddenly leave him. Well it did not leave to be exact, but his situation was as good as that. Relearning the control… How was he supposed to do that? The method was already ingrained in his flesh and blood, in his very essence, so how was he supposed to just throw all that he had learned aside and replace it with something entirely different? Damn Dumbledore! Would he never be free from the effect of his manipulations? That man… He would pay for what he had done dearly. Sadistic glee lit up his face as he stood in the rays of water, the tile under him swirling with crimson. How much more fun it will be to have the old man under his care! Wormtail was just a pathetic excuse of a life form considered human based on anatomy alone. Dumbledore though… it would be a thrill to finally break him. Harry could hardly wait for the time when the betraying bastard would be forced to admit his deeds. He had plans for him, great plans.

Not more than an hour later Harry was on his way toward Tom's study clean and refreshed. Although he had not slept a wink, a well deserved torture session left him cheerful and bouncy. The new wards at his door were torn down with ease, with Harry humming a merry tune all the while. As he neared the door, he heard the sounds of conversation filtering through. Had he been so absorbed in his blissful state he had not noticed an apparition? That could not be right, no. The guest inside had arrived by traditional means or he would have noticed the distortion in the atmosphere immediately. Harry decided to humor Tom and knocked on the door politely.

"Come in."

Harry stepped inside with mock reverence, barely able to conceal the grin threatening to overtake his face as he bowed to the man in a medieval fashion. The only thing missing was the funny-looking hat with colorful feathers stuck on it. Tom, all scaly again, raised a nonexistent brow. Standing before the table stood the sneering figure of none other than Draco Malfoy. His aristocratic features were scrunched up in disdain at his show of disrespect.

"Mr. …Ted? A pleasure." Harry smiled at him. Draco's expression mirrored anything but.

"Do call me V'ulpe, would you? _Tom_ here is such a prankster, isn't he?" While he was saying it, he already had his shield up. Harry knew it was not exactly wise to show disrespect if they were not in private, but he decided it was well deserved after the _Ted_ incident. Sure enough, the curse Tom shot at him was barely a hairline away from Avada Kedavra. Draco's mouth was hanging open rather comically.

"Leave." Tom commanded icily. At first Harry thought he was referring to him, but then he saw he was looking at the blond, not him. Draco glanced at Harry with stunned disbelief; it seemed that even after the incident at the Death Eater meeting he had trouble wrapping his mind around the concept that someone would dare oppose, even insult their Lord. He quickly collected himself though and glanced at Tom once before sweeping out of the room with a regal air about him – in other words; with his nose well above standard height. Harry grinned at the slamming door. He was going to enjoy his stay at the mansion.

"Potter." Uh oh. Harry turned to the desk slowly. Maybe, just _maybe_, it was not the brightest of ways for payback to undermine the Dark Lords authority.

"To- er, Voldemort?"

"It would be smart of you not to doubt my ability to kill you any second I wish. You may have acquired _some_ power, but I have many decades of experience and routine above you. Especially now that you've lost control. Do not underestimate me! That stupid little artifact of yours can only take you so far." Harry glanced at his hand. The man did have a point, but he was not about to admit that. He already knew the fundamentals of training one's element; he could start over and bring himself into shape. It would be difficult without help and he now had two elements to tame at once, but he would manage somehow. He was sure of it. However, he did go a little too far with his cockiness just now…

Harry sighed and threw himself into the chair in front of the desk.

"Sorry. I was out of line there." he mumbled. Tom cocked his head expectantly. Harry's chest puffed up. "I said it was my bad already! Besides, you started it by calling me _Ted_ of all things! Now I'll have to go around throwing _Crucios _at anyone who's stupid enough to call me that! You any idea how much work that'll be?"

"I told you to stay in your room. It was you who barged in on us without an invitation. Not to mention Bella; my followers would have been confused enough about you by my side without you showing off. Now I have to do damage control because of your stunt." Harry sniffed indignantly.

"I honestly hope you did not expect me to go all Grimm Reaper on you with the billowing black cloak and Scream mask from hell, did you?" Harry shuddered just thinking about the image; that would have been totally embarrassing. Tom was now watching him with a slightly confused expression before he had the chance to make his face blank. Harry elaborated.

"You know; Scream? The horror flick with all the cutting and stabbing and the mask with the droopy eyes and booby mouth?"

"Horror flick?" He repeated blankly. The word sounded so foreign on his mouth, Harry almost giggled, but he kept himself in check.

"Never mind. Anyhow, I'm sorry ok? I promise to behave in front of your henchmen from now on. Although you should not expect me to kiss your ass like some slave." Tom leered at his words.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Harry's face heated up at the realization what he just said. The double meaning was not lost on Tom of course.

"So when do we start the lessons?" Harry asked as a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"Right now."

Harry perked up. After he learned the proper technique, he would finally be able to shut his thoughts away from the Lord's prying. It would be a huge weight off his chest to know Tom could not fish information from his mind. He also had some planning to do about the future which he did not want the man to find out about, seeing as it involved his death and all. Harry quickly pushed that to the back of his mind and barricaded it away with the strongest shields he could muster. It was draining on his magic to hold up a constant barrier around such dangerous intentions, but there was no other way to keep Tom from finding them out. Even this method was not hundred percent full-proof with their weird type of connection.

"Alright! So what should I do?"

"First of all, you have to discover the embodiment of the connection in your _locus mens_. Did you ever see something unusual that could fit?"

"Well why don't you just tell me what it looks like?" Harry grumbled.

"Fool. The _locus mens_ is different for every single individual, even for you and me. The bond will also appear different. I admit it was easier for me to find, as the connection only manifested after years and years of mind magic I've done. Because of this, I found the alteration in my _locus mens_ immediately, but you had that bond there from the very start, so it would not seem out of place to you. Even so, for our training to begin, you first must find that distortion in your mind. The broken wall may make it even more difficult, but it's possible that it will ease the task considerably as well, since you have never visited that part of the space yet."

Harry nodded. Tom was explaining things in a way that made them relatively easy to understand. It was of course inevitable that he would have difficulties with grasping the concept, but that was only because mind magic usually made no or not much sense until it was put into practice. The working of one's mind was just too different for every person to compose a universal rule to handle it.

"Come." Tom stood up and walked out the door, glancing at Harry impatiently when he did not follow immediately. The abrupt command was unexpected, so it took Harry a moment to stand up and go after the man. They made their way to the opposite side of the corridor, and Tom walked all the way to the end. Harry eyed the plain wall before them with curiosity. There was nothing that stood out visibly, but Harry knew better than to think Tom would bring him there without a reason.

~Door.~ The Lord hissed in Parseltongue. Harry heard some clicking sounds and a second later a small snake emerged from the wall, the head surfacing as if from water, not concrete. The little animal seemed like it was made of sliver, the light catching on the miniature scales on its head. It did not come through fully; the rest of the slender body stayed hidden behind the surface. It opened its mouth wide, the shape suspiciously reminding Harry of a keyhole.

Tom reached inside his cloak's neckline, pulling out a delicate chain that held a small key as a pendant. He took the necklace off and pushed the key into the open mouth of the snake, turning it once. The wall simply vanished without a trace, revealing an opening leading to a huge round room. The walls were painted a mixture of orange and red with tapestries thrown in here and there. There were colorful hangings draped all over the place and the beautiful intricately designed rugs covering the floor were littered with decorative pillows of all shapes and sizes.

"Handy hiding place. How did you manage to conjure such a huge space from nil? This wall was supposed to be the end of the mansion, right?"

"It was not easy; I had to bend reality a little and nature doesn't really take kindly to that. But I succeeded eventually." Harry was awed. No shame in that. It was virtually impossible to conjure matter from nothing at all – magic always needed something to work with first. Even conjuring something from seemingly nothing had to be empowered by energy taken from nature. You could not just pop out new things without affecting it. But Tom somehow did it. What a monster.

"I use it for relaxing and meditating. The space does not get affected by anything from outside, including time. And even if, say, the mansion was blown up, nothing would change here."

"How the hell did you do it? This should be impossible!" Tom smiled widely.

"That is for me to know and for you… to not know. I'm not willing to share such secrets with anyone, let alone Harry Potter. I will however, give you a key. You will come here to search your _locus mens_ every day from now on, until you find the connection. After finishing the exercises you will come to me so I can monitor your progress. We can speed up the process this way; I refuse to spend years on something like this."

Harry paled. _Years_? Was he serious? And even if Tom was not spending that much time on it, Harry still had to meditate in that room time enough to equal that. It _would_ seem like years, even if was only a few weeks or months in reality. Well, the man did say it would be hard, so it was not like he could complain. Did not mean he had to be happy about it though.

* * *

Sorry for the wait, but it is likely this will be the regular pace for updates from now on, maybe even slower. I plan to thicken the plot from the next chapter, throw some of my prepared bombshells at you all. *snickers*

I also want to improve the relationship between Harry and Tom. I know it is a slow coming, but really, they could not just jump each other after more than a decade long animosity without gaining new perspectives, right? That would have been rather odd, not to mention I can't imagine Harry as a slut at all. *shrugs* Maybe that's only me.

Reviews? *blinks prettily*

I luuuuuv reviews! :P


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